


Walking Up The Down Slope

by raelee514



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles loves his co-star Misha Collins;  there is just one big problem,  he married Danneel Harris and has tried to bury his attraction to Misha.  Until one night at a Christmas Party at Misha's house he gets drunk.  Once something happens it can't unhappen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Up The Down Slope

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Earth_Heart of Livejournal. Who is hearts and love and awesomeness.  
> Beta'ed by Obstintrax of Livejournal. Who is awesome and fantastic.  
> Cheerleaded often by Embroiderama of Livejournal and AO3

One

 _Misha_

Misha grinned as he closed the door to the small house he rented in Vancouver during the shooting year. He’d just held the little annual winter party he liked to throw and almost all the guests were gone. Misha was sure Jensen was still around somewhere, he just had to find him, and put him in a cab back to the building where Jensen rented an apartment.

Walking through the living room, Misha ran his hands over his arms. He felt a bit chilled from the cold air outside still, and he reveled in the feel of the softness of the crazy orange and pink sweater he’d chosen to wear for the evening for maximum ice breaking and ribbing from the cast for how the Supernatural fandom loved him and his crazy. Wasn’t his fault he knew how to play the legions -- plus he’d always thought he’d be one of those actors where people knew the face and hopefully talent but never really had true fans. Supernatural changed that with their loud fan base and a crew, cast and writer’s that understood the fans had a lot to do with why a ‘little show that could’ lasted more than just a few years on a no-name network like CW, and kept an eye on them.

So Misha was having fun, he was being crazy, he was doing some good charity work knowing he had a voice people listened to. Maybe it was using his power over strangers, but at least he was putting it to good use. He picked up as many empty bottles, and glasses as he could before going into the kitchen. That had been the last place he’d seen Jensen, or to be more honest with himself, Jensen’s ass. Jensen had been peering into the refrigerator, probably looking for another beer. Jensen seemed to have made it his mission to drink every beer he saw during the night. Misha figured it had something to do with Danneel and decided to ignore it. However Jensen’s ass was harder to ignore and Misha had forced himself to leave his own kitchen. He’d wanted to grab Jensen’s ass; he often wanted to just grab and touch Jensen. Sometimes, on set, he did it just get it out of his system in a way where he could claim he was just trying to upstage Jared as the on-set clown. He thought he handled his crush and attraction to his married costar well no one even had a clue he wanted Jensen. He didn’t think the section of fangirls typing away at their computers counted. They liked to play, but they knew the lines between fantasy and reality. They were all really close to the truth on how he felt about Jensen, that was all. Didn’t help that once you got past Jensen’s pretty packaging, he was amazing from the inside out.

The kitchen was empty, so Misha dropped his armload into his already full sink. He scowled, remembering now what the downside to a party was, he’d forgotten but he’d been making a mental list about how excited he was about this party all week, thinking just for the sake of balance he should make a con list about it but hadn’t been able to think of one. Now he remembered. Clean-up.

Misha searched the whole downstairs and didn’t find Jensen anywhere, frowning he started to think he was wrong and Jensen already left. Without a goodbye, Misha knew it shouldn’t bother him but he’d liked the idea Jensen was his last guest; it was a rare chance to be alone with him. Misha wasn’t too proud to take what he could get.

He walked up the stairs in a snit. It brought speed and urgency he didn’t feel about going up to his bedroom, stripping down and washing away all the sweat and booze hosting a party entailed. He started to do it, because there was no last guest to see off after all and the house was warm from all the extra people that had been milling about. He pulled off his sweater, and started to hitch up the black t-shirt underneath it as he entered his bedroom.

Suddenly warm hands were on him, on his ribs, hot palms flat against skin pushed him against the wall next to the door. Jensen was staring down at him, eyes dilated, his full mouth open.

“Jensen,” Misha squeaked, completely taken off his guard, something he wasn’t used to at all. He was the one who liked to tilt people sideways and see how they handled it and what they did to rise to his challenge.

“Misha,” Jensen said, voice lower than a whisper. Misha wasn’t even sure if he heard him. Jensen pushed up the t-shirt exposing more of Misha’s chest.

“Jensen,” Misha said again, louder this time, with a lot less squeak. Misha grabbed Jensen’s wrists when it looked like Jensen might just take the shirt off of him. “What the...” Misha struggled for the right expletive but not even ‘fuck’ seemed strong enough a phrase for this moment.

“Misha,” Jensen said again. “Cat finally got your god damned tongue?”

“Uh...”

Jensen grinned but it died as fast it came, Misha noticed that Jensen’s eyes kept falling back to where his hands were against Misha’s skin. Hot palms, two thumbs stroking against his skin. Misha moaned; he closed his eyes and tried to count to ten in hopes of finding out at the number one that he was dreaming. He’d had this dream before, especially after a night where he’d had one too many to drink. Drink?

Memories of Jensen throughout the night, always with a different bottle of beer, a time or two with a cup of Misha’s leaded punch. Misha swallowed. “You’re drunk.”

“I wish I could hate you,” Jensen whispered.

Misha closed his eyes and told his curiosity to shut up. People could never just say something around him and then drop it. He’d pick and poke, until they got so pissed off he’d be afraid he couldn’t charm them into forgiveness, or they told him everything. But the idea of Jensen wanting to hate him -- it hurt. “Don’t,” Misha heard himself say without thought, his eyes closing on him as Jensen hands twitched against his skin and Jensen pressed his body against Misha’s bring them closer.

“Don’t want to,” Jensen whispered again. “You, you and your stupid wit, the damn stories and the flirting, the constant fucking flirting. All out and bisexual like it’s easy.”

“What? Jensen, you’re drunk?” Misha tries again, to take control of this; he can take control of this. It probably isn’t even about him.

“You make everything a joke, even that kiss...” Jensen growls. “Do you even remember.”

“Remember?”

“How your tongue felt licking against the roof of my mouth?”

“Oh.” Misha pulled on Jensen’s wrists he had to get him to stop touching him; he had to get Jensen out his personal space. He could smell him, all soapy clean, a simple smelling cologne and the beer. All that beer -- there was a reason Misha couldn’t forget the beer, he had to focus on the fact that Jensen was drunk.

“I’ll make you remember,” Jensen said, using his height, his advantage of having Misha against a wall to keep his hands on him, to keep them close. Misha swallowed and saw a look in Jensen’s eyes that he’d only expect to see from someone who wanted him. Even as Jensen’s lips connected with his, Misha still couldn’t quite believe it was happening until Jensen’s tongue was sliding across his lower lip and the memory Jensen wanted to evoke was back.

Back then he’d been telling himself he just was hot for Jensen. He knew better, but Misha was great at being loud and crazy with his denial. He did stupid and crazy things -- and the truth was he’d planned the joke for the whole night, but he’d planned to do it in a crowd, around Jared, and Jensen’s other friends. Misha had been surprised to be invited to the bachelor party. So he’d had a silly plan. Since his crush was going to get married to one of the sexiest and most beautiful women on the planet, he’d have one little taste for himself. Disguised as a joke.  
 The thing was that, when he planted the kiss on Jensen they’d been alone. No one around to laugh, point and make Jensen blush when it was over with while Misha teased him about using him for one last fling. No, instead they were in a back room, completely alone. The music had stopped and Misha had somehow ended up the one to drive Jensen back to Jared’s place where there was more planned for the night.

Jensen was picking at the label of a beer bottle when Misha found him, standing and just picking at the label. His shoulders looking too tense for a guy celebrating the best thing of his life -- at least Misha thought marriage would be, followed by the family that could follow. He didn’t have it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about.

He’d put his hand on Jensen’s shoulder and felt the tension. “Hey, what the hell Jensen? Should I call Jared and tell him to call the hooker I got him the number for?” Misha joked, massaging Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen just laughed, shrugged off Misha hand and turned to face him. “Just thinking,” he said.

Misha shook his head. “Thinking while drunk and engaged to be married is dangerous.”

Jensen just shrugged his eyes not seeming to be focused on anything. So Misha had kissed him. It wasn’t bad timing for it to be a joke, but it wasn’t one, at least not to him, and he was taking advantage of Jensen’s moment of introspection, but it was his only chance. Misha grabbed Jensen by the face and pressed their lips together, Jensen gasped and Misha plunged his tongue in, letting one hand fall down to the base of Jensen’s skull and the other to his waist. He was lost in it, lost in Jensen, Jensen’s lips, and even Jensen’s tongue. He’d moaned when Jensen flicked his tongue inside his mouth, moaned and had started to thrust his hips into Jensen’s when Jensen pushed him back, wide eyed, shocked and not looking too happy with him at all.

Misha’s stomach plummeted at that, that Jensen hadn’t wanted it, had just been shocked and was upset. So he did the only thing he could do and went with the idea it was a joke. Told him it was his job as a friend and costar to give him one last little fling before he was off the market.

Jensen had even laughed with him, shook his head at him but laughed -- and they’d gone back to Jared’s to play poker and tease Jensen into singing a song he’d been writing for Danneel and had been dumb enough to tell Chris about. Misha had even managed to train himself to never think about it, because one taste wouldn’t be enough, not when it came to Jensen.

Only now Misha was tasting Jensen again and he moaned into it, hands letting go of Jensen’s wrists and grabbing onto his face. Jensen deepened the kiss at the contact and once again flicked his tongue inside of Misha’s mouth.

It wasn’t until they broke apart for air that Misha saw Jensen’s alcohol blown eyes and remembered why he shouldn’t have responded. Why he shouldn’t be doing this, and how confused Misha felt about why the hell Jensen was even doing this. Misha resolved to stop this, get Jensen home, and go from there when Jensen wasn’t drunk and he wasn’t drunk on Jensen.

“Jensen, stop,” he muttered and had to clear his throat and try again. He had to sound like he meant it.

Jensen was kissing his neck and it was amazing to have that mouth against his skin, but Misha had made the adult decision here and he hated himself for it, but he was going to follow through. “Jensen, stop, you’re drunk and you don’t know what you are doing.”

“Thinking about this since we met, what you’d taste like, if you...” Jensen trailed off and Misha felt Jensen’s hands at his belt buckle. “Just need to,” Jensen muttered.

Misha had a long moment of hesitation, Jensen’s hands were undoing his belt, Jensen was biting his bottom lip in concentration. It was all almost too much to handle. It was certainly too much to say no to but Misha forced himself. “Fuck, Jensen, I mean it. Stop. No!”

It was the ‘no’ the did it. Jensen was a gentleman and if you didn’t want him to do something he didn’t do it. He’d been raised right by his parents and it was just part and parcel of who Jensen was. It was what made him so serious at times, so intensely focused on his job, or even just a hobby. It was Jensen and Misha really couldn’t believe he was about to stop this but a voice kept telling him if he didn’t, it was going to be Jensen who would be hurt the most. Jensen didn’t even know what he was doing. He wasn’t thinking straight and Misha didn’t understand it.

Jensen stopped kissing him, dropped his hands and stepped back at the word. Misha felt cold and empty and hated himself, hated Jensen a little too for putting him through this. Please let it be payback, Misha hoped because his gut was rumbling that anything else is going to cause things to be messy.

“Uh, I’m going to go call you a cab,” Misha muttered, remembering his initial plan for ending his evening. Talk with Jensen, just take in his presence while waiting for the cab to come and take Jensen back to his life and leave Misha to his. They wouldn’t see each other again until shooting started back after New Years.

“You don’t...” Jensen slurred, took a few steps back and fell on the edge of Misha’s bed. Misha stepped forward afraid he will fall off the bed but Jensen doesn’t. “You don’t, do you -- I, yeah, did the right thing marrying Danneel, not risking everything on you -- just a fucking joke, like this is, right Misha?”

It’s not a joke. It’s not a joke. Never was and never would be and they both know it, Misha realized. Misha swallowed. “Jensen, what the fuck...” he whispered just in time to watch Jensen pass out on his bed. “What the fuck?” Misha repeated.

 

 _Jensen_

Jensen woke up to Sadie licking his face and a throbbing headache. He groaned and carefully sat up, noticing that he was in a pair of black jeans and a white plain t-shirt -- the kind he usually wore under a dress shirt. Misha’s party, he remembered; he’d gone to Misha’s party, he’d hung out with Jared and Genevieve until they left. They’d left early because Genevieve had an early flight and he’d kept drinking because he’d wanted to feel numb. All because he’d had another ridiculous fight with Danneel. Jared had left and he’d stayed, so, why and how the hell was he here. Jensen stood up slowly and noticed Jared had put a waste paper basket by the couch and he flushed with embarrassment as he made his way toward the first floor bathroom. On the door was a post-it note.

“Be back by 7, took my wife to airport. Later Jay.”

Jensen stepped into the bathroom and turned on the cold water. He stared at himself in the mirror and swallowed hard as memories from the night before came and abruptly stopped. A cold beer, stolen from Misha’s refrigerator; watching Misha talking with a beautiful dark haired girl from the door way of the kitchen and feeling his stomach tighten in that nagging, ever present, inappropriate jealousy. Jensen remembered turning away from the sight of Misha flirting. Jensen felt hot at the memory, the jealousy flaring again and keeping him stuck in moment. He turned on the cold water and splashed his face. He allowed the cold to sting his skin and it helped him to recall that he’d walked away from Misha and told himself he loved Danneel. And that as he walked away he’d taken a long pull of the beer. It was that one last swallow of alcohol that pushed him over from drunk to too drunk, Jensen realized. He prayed he hadn’t done anything more than pass out on Misha’s bed, but his stomach twisted into knots. He’d been so drunk and he’d felt completely jealous of the brunette with Misha.

 _What if you played that joke, and something went wrong?_

Jensen shook his head and told himself he’d never have gone through with the idea he had to payback Misha for what happened at his bachelor party. It was a petty fantasy fueled by anger. Anger that he had no right to direct at Misha. Yes, Misha had kissed him, out of nowhere and it’d thrown Jensen completely. He’d started to respond, but stopped confused and needing to know Misha wasn’t messing with his head, that Misha hadn’t been joking because Jensen wanted it to mean something. The thought made him nauseated, because of Danneel, but if it’d meant something he would have cancelled the wedding. He would have broken up with Danneel and faced the truth that he also liked men head on for the first time.

But it had been a joke. Misha had laughed and Jensen had too. In fact, for the rest of the night he gave the one performance of his life that he believed was award worthy. He’d pretended he was fine with it being a joke between drunk friends. Inside thought, he’d been hurt and angry. A bit at Misha, but mostly at himself for thinking he had a shot with Misha, for thinking he should leave Danneel. Hurting her and in the process possibly hurting everyone around him and his career. He’d rationalized and he’d believed it. But he couldn’t help creating a payback fantasy to get back at Misha. He knew Misha liked men as much as women and he was going to use it against him. Get Misha all hot and bothered and take it all away -- all as a well-meaning joke of course.

Jensen told himself, he’d never really do it. It was a stupid fantasy due to an unwanted and unrequited crush he had. He shouldn’t care about Misha because he was married to amazing woman, and he did love her. “I love her,” Jensen told the mirror, touching his lips thinking they looked a bit too full. “I love Danneel,” he repeated again but the memory of his bachelor party, the jealousy from the party nagged at him.

 _Maybe you went for the other fantasy, you know that one_

The voice in his head, the one he wished he could silence permanently, whispered to him and his stomach roiled, making him rush to the floor by the toilet; but he did nothing but dry heave. Swearing, he stayed on the floor and let his head fall onto the rim of the toilet, praying he hadn’t come on Misha. As his fantasies tended to go, they evolved and changed. There were different scenarios. Scenario A, he made Misha want him but played it off quickly as joke before it went to far. In scenario B, he went further, he’d go into full on seductive mode to get Misha nearly naked and hard with want before saying it was all a joke. Jensen was angry and he was hurt. He wanted to see Misha wanting him to boost his own ego. Because maybe it’d make him feel better about how hard it had punched him in a gut for Misha to toy with him like he had that night. He wanted to hurt Misha too, wanted him to want Jensen back as much as Jensen wanted him and then take it away. It was wrong, it was mean and Jensen hated himself a little bit every time he allowed the fantasy to play out in his head.

He’d thought about it at the party, Jensen remembered. He thought it a few times while watching Misha being Misha with his guests, making everyone laugh by using ice as building blocks to make a castle. Complete with spilled wine as a moat. Jensen remembered how he’d watched Misha’s hands, watched Misha flirt with the guests. Everyone in the room had put Misha in the center and Jensen had been jealous of every eye. He’d thought about taking Misha’s hands and placing them on his own body. Jensen had wanted to hear Misha say he wanted to have sex and then Jensen would laugh it off as a joke.

“I didn’t do it, I couldn’t have done that,” Jensen muttered, but he’d thought it and didn’t that mean that he might be capable of it? Guilt about Danneel, guilt about doing that to Misha, shame at getting so drunk and feeling it all were pounding at Jensen’s temples.

 _Of course then there is the other one, isn’t there? Where you let him do all those things you’re afraid of._

Jensen stood up then and turned on the shower. He’d have to put his dirty clothes back on but they weren’t why he felt dirty. He’d never gone further with a guy than allowing himself to be blown. He’d never blown a guy and he’d certainly never been fucked or fucked a guy. His experience with men was small and the last guy he’d done anything with was over eight years ago. He’d pushed it away, only had the occasional glimpse of a man and thought, ‘he’s hot’ but they had all be transient thoughts. Until Misha. Misha and he shook hands the day they met and before they let go Jensen had been half hard. As the days went on it had gotten worse, and it had become more than a physical attraction. Pure physical attraction Jensen could’ve dealt with, he wouldn’t have to feel guilty, he wouldn’t wonder if his thoughts alone made him unfaithful to Danneel. He wouldn’t have almost cancelled the wedding, he wouldn’t still wonder if he should have never married Danneel.

Scenario C of the fantasy was about going for it with Misha no holds barred. He wanted to get Misha hot and bothered and then let Misha thrust into him, or go down onto his knees for Misha. He wanted to do all the things he’d never done with a man with Misha, he wanted it. And it was more sex, he loved being near Misha, hearing Misha laugh, watching Misha think and then do, the most crazy things. He never knew what Misha might say or do and Jensen liked the challenge and rush of trying to guess, trying to keep up with him. He loved talking to Misha about nothing for hours. Jensen wanted to know what sex would be like with Misha, wanted to know what it would be like with a man yes, but it was Misha that made him crave it.

But there was no way he’d done anything last night. He wouldn’t do that, he’d never do that to Danneel, would he? Jensen turned the water to too hot, and he stood under it taking the heat. His body didn’t ache, only his head, only his conscience with worry. He’d be sore if anything happened, right? Jensen closed his eyes, grabbed the body wash on the shelf and made a decision. He had to stop thinking about what could have happened. He’d stop thinking and shower. When Jared got back from the airport he’d get some answers, and all he could do until then was pray he hadn’t done anything stupid.

~~

Jensen was in the kitchen feeding the dogs, enjoying the feel of deja vu from when he lived with Jared, when Jared came in through the garage door.

“So, uh want to tell me what happened last night?”

“Dude, what happened last night,” Jared said at the same time Jensen spoke.

Jensen sighed and Jared’s eyes widened. “Don’t you know?” they both said.

Jensen turned from Jared and grabbed the dogs’ bottle of dry food to put it away, he wasn’t going to panic or jump to conclusions. He hadn’t screwed up his life in anyway, that was for sure, he’d know that -- wouldn’t he?

“You don’t remember?” Jared said, from behind him taking off his jacket and throwing it on the counter.

“I had a lot to drink?” Jensen eyed the counter. “I see married life hasn’t made you any neater.”

“Why were you slamming them back, anyway? Another fight with Dani?”

Jensen sighed, the fight he’d had with Danneel before leaving the party coming back to him. “Yeah. It was lame, man, I don’t even remember what it was about.”

“She called last night.”

“Shit,” Jensen leaned on his palms on the counter. “When?”

“When Misha and I were trying to get you into my car. She asked me to bring you home instead of leaving you alone. I told her I’d make sure you’re okay. You okay?”

Jensen felt Jared’s palm on his upper back and he sighed. “I am man, I just -- we’re going through some phase or something I guess. I just...I just didn’t want to think last night. Went over board huh? Misha pissed?”

Jensen straightened up as he talked and headed to Jared’s refrigerator. “Mind if I scramble some eggs, man?” he asked before Jared answered him.

“Go ahead, there is some bacon in there too. Misha was just pissed he had to carry half your heavy ass. What you been eating man? I swear last time I had to carry you you weighed less. Dani cooking you too many pastries?”

“Whatever, that’s all?”

“Yeah, said he found you passed out on his bed.”

Jensen felt his stomach drop, Misha’s bed, he’d been thinking about going up to the bedroom, making one of his dumb ass fantasies come true. “Uh, his bed?”

Jared threw up his hands and laughed. “Whatever, better than passing out hugging the toilet or something.”

“I guess,” Jensen muttered, feeling his cheeks flame. “Did I embarrass myself any other way?”

Jared laughed. “If you did he didn’t share, which I tried to get him too. He just said he’d lost track of you during the party, thought you’d left and then found you on his bed dead to the world. When he called me.”

Jensen grabbed two eggs but turned to face Jared before going for a pan. “Hey, man, I’m so sorry. I know you wanted some more time with Gen.”

Jared shrugged. “It’s okay, it’s what friends are for. You should call Dani, though. I’m going to go crash for a bit, eat what you want, your car is outside, Misha drove it over and took a cab back last night.”

“Shit,” Jensen ducked his head as he blushed through the next wave of embarrassment. “I should call him too,” he shook his head. “I’m an ass.”

“Yeah, but we love you anyway,” Jared ruffled Jensen’s hair before taking off with a loud yawn.

~~

Jensen hadn’t even closed the door to his apartment in Vancouver when his cell phone started to ring, it was the ring tone Danneel had chosen for herself on his phone; saying that at least his wife deserved something besides the default ring tone. It was a song from One Tree Hill or Ten Inch Hero, he wasn’t sure, he just knew it was Bethany Joy. He braced himself and answered the phone as he made his way to the bedroom, he needed to change, maybe take another shower, rest for a bit and start to pack for heading home to Texas for the holidays. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey?” Danneel said. “You get trashed last night and all you say is hey?”

“Misha’s punch is like 100 proof, if I’d known that would’ve stuck to beer,” he lied.

“Jensen,” she said and sometimes it awed him how much she could pack into his name. She was pissed, she was worried, and the combination had her frustrated. “I hate fighting.”

Jensen nodded. “I hate fighting too, I’m sorry, I’m beat from work and taking it out on you,” he said, blaming his exhaustion on the amount of time his brain has spent on Misha as well. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I just got back from Jared’s, my flight leaves around midnight, you still getting into Dallas tomorrow?”

“Of course, I’m still getting into Dallas tomorrow. We need time together, we haven’t had more than a day the past month, we need time to just be, I think.”

Jensen smiled at that and let himself fall flat on his back on the bed. “I missed you at the party,” he said. He had, he’d missed having her to pull him into conversations he’d never butt into himself, he missed having her and the _JensenDanneel_ language they had from knowing each other for so long. He’d never really realized how much friendship mattered in a relationship until her. He was an ass, for thinking about anyone else. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Tell Misha and Jared I owe them for carrying your lazy ass, Misha should have just let you sleep it off on his bed instead bugging Jared though.”

Jensen sat back up and stood up. “Yeah, I owe Jared candy and Misha, I don’t know, a turnip?”

Danneel laughed and he closed his eyes, he loved that laugh, he loved that laugh a lot, he loved her. “I’m really sorry about...”

“Clean slate, Jensen, it’s okay. We’ll take time this holiday and just reconnect in all the best ways. We’ll make up new silly jokes, we’ll keep practicing making that baby.”

“Yeah, that sounds really good.”

“Okay, you should get some rest and then pack, see you soon.”

“Soon,” Jensen said and he closed the phone. Stood in the center of his room and stared at it, then he went to his contacts and scrolled down to Misha. His mouth dried out and he licked his lips, but he had to do this. He owed Misha a lot for last night, passing out on the guy and he hated himself for it but he had to know he didn’t do anything inappropriate.

It rang long enough for relief to start to flood Jensen. He’d get the voicemail and he could leave a message. So he wouldn’t know what happened which made his stomach twist but he could learn to live with it.

“Jensen,” Misha’s voice was suddenly in his ear, low and quiet and Jensen had no time to be surprised at Misha answering because he was reminded of how Danneel put so much in his name. Because he was hearing things in his name on Misha’s tongue. He sounded off, wary, maybe angry.

Wincing Jensen tightened his grip on his cellphone. “Hey, look man about last night...”

“You groped me, you kissed me, you said you did the right thing marrying Danneel and not risking....not risking what on me, Jensen?” Misha said bluntly and with a few breaks in his voice.

Jensen felt his knees buckle and stumbled back to his bed. His head swam with the words Misha was saying and Misha’s breath was in his ear. Foggy snippets of memory flew back to him. Pushing Misha against a wall, his hands on Misha’s ribs, stroking bare skin with his thumb, his lips on Misha’s neck. “Uh...”

“I thought you didn’t want it, that kiss, I was weak and I kissed you because I needed at least one taste of you -- but I thought you didn’t want me. If I’d know you did...fuck Jensen. I...” Misha trailed off. “I thought, I was up all night, I thought yeah I shouldn’t tell him, I shouldn’t mention a thing, he probably won’t remember. But I can’t Jensen, I want you, I want to risk myself with you.”

“Misha, I...come here, can you come here?” Jensen heard himself say and a voice screamed at him to take it back but he couldn’t. “Please?”

“On my way.”

 

TWO

 _Jensen_

 

Fifteen minutes later, Jensen was busy dusting the already dust free coffee table, intent on tidying up his living room as he tried to rationalize not only changing his clothes but changing into well worn tight jeans and a black t-shirt that was just a little too tight across his biceps. He was modest to a point, he knew he was attractive, he was an actor, he was trained to used it, he was paid to use it. Did he think he was the sexiest man alive? No. That was Misha, Jensen thought idly, dusting the same spot on the coffee table for the fifth time and he swallowed. What was he doing? When Misha knocked he should open the door only far enough to see Misha face, say he made a mistake and send him home.

He should. Jensen knew he wouldn’t. As loud as a voice in his head was screaming it was wrong, as much as he knew what he was doing was wrong, something else was driving him to do this. If he didn’t do this something bad would happen. Jensen didn’t know what that something bad was but he felt like he had to try avoid it. He had to stop running. He’d been running since he was fifteen and told Mike Teagarden that they could no longer ‘do what they were doing’ because he wasn’t gay. He stopped and started and he wanted to stop running.

Jensen’s heart felt like it was pounding in his ears, his throat was dry and his palms were wet. Wiping his palms on his jeans, he headed for the kitchen for a drink when there came three loud knocks on the door. It felt like he was in slow motion as he changed direction, pushing through water instead of air, yet he felt like he got to his door faster than ever.

Jensen opened it and there was Misha. Jensen took five small steps backward, opening the door wider to allow Misha inside, his eyes locked with Misha’s. Misha stepped inside and Jensen let go of the door. Misha’s hand coming out and pushing it closed behind him.

Misha then took a few more steps and brought them nose to nose, his hands reaching out and grabbing Jensen’s hips. Jensen felt nothing but a magnetic draw towards Misha. _Get closer, get closer_ it seemed to become his heartbeat as well as his thoughts. So Jensen took Misha’s face in his palms and kissed him, his mouth open and his tongue out to trace the plumpness of Misha’s bottom lip.

There was a moan and a groan. The taste of Misha with green tea on his tongue and Chapstick on his lips made Jensen’s head spin and he moved his hands around to Misha’s back, pulling him tighter. Misha’s hands had dropped to his ass, pulling Jensen closer and they both were thrusting their tongues as far as they would go then pulling back, only to start again.

When they finally broke apart, the apartment echoed with their heavy breathing and the temperature seemed to have risen fifteen degrees. Their foreheads were touching and Misha was tracing Jensen’s cheekbones with his thumbs. Jensen was lost in Misha’s eyes, those damn blue eyes that had been present in his dreams since the day they met to film Castiel’s entrance to the Supernatural mythos. For the first time, Jensen was allowing himself to stare right into Misha’s eyes while he was himself and not in character; he was letting himself feel the full intensity of Misha’s gaze, and he wondered what he was sending back, if he could possibly match it. He felt naked, meeting Misha’s gaze like this he was vulnerable and Jensen had been hiding so much for so long it was an unbelievable weight off of his mind. A weight that he was thankful was gone but a part of him was also screaming at Jensen to grab it back, because with it in place he was safer. Misha moved forward and captured Jensen’s mouth again, reminding him why he no longer wanted to play it safe. It was a brief kiss, chaste in comparison to their first, but it sent electricity down Jensen’s spine and he breathed out in awe.

“We should talk,” Misha said but instead of pulling away he ducked his head down and started to trail kisses down Jensen’s neck. “Taste so good,” he whispered against Jensen’s skin, his hands pushing up under Jensen’s t-shirt. Jensen craned his neck, giving Misha more access, his own hands at Misha’s belt buckle to lead him toward the couch. They hit the edge of the coffee table and then Jensen stumbled a bit as he hit the couch, but then he’s sitting and Misha’s straddling him.

Looking up at Misha, Jensen felt his heart stop for a second and he licked his lips. “We should talk,” he said, knowing it, wanting too but his heart started to beat faster than ever, and it felt like fear pounding in his ears. Misha nodded, as if in agreement but contradicted himself and didn’t pull back to talk. Instead he grabbed the hem of Jensen’s shirt and started to pull up, forcing Jensen to raise his arms and allow Misha to take it off. Misha hands then ran down his chest and back up, then one hand was against Jensen’s mouth, Misha’s thumb on the bottom lip.

“Misha,” Jensen groaned, poking out his tongue and grazing the pad of Misha’s thumb, seconds before Misha kissed him again. Jensen’s back was pressed flush against the back of the couch, Misha’s erection obvious as Misha kept managing to move closer into Jensen’s space causing there to be nothing more than a sliver of air between them.  
Air filled with their heat, their warmth, and Jensen felt one of the many urges he’d always felt around Misha and for once he wasn’t going to repress it, he wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t make his breath hitch and his cock twitch. He was going to do it and he pushed his palms against Misha’s chest, pushing Misha’s off of him with an oomph. Misha whined but a look at Jensen’s determined expression made him follow the silent order and he moved off of Jensen. Jensen stood, and grabbed Misha’s shirt and pulled it off of him, pausing briefly to run his hands up and down Misha’s ribcage. “Fuck, Misha,” he whispered. He grabbed at Misha’s belt buckle, undid the belt, the button, the zipper, and never had he hated a pair of pants so much. It felt like it took too long but finally he pulled Misha’s pants down and groaned when it turned out Misha had on no underwear.

He stared, his heart pounding. He knew his eyes must have widened but he didn’t care, he put his hands on Misha’s shoulders and pushed him so he was sitting back on the couch and then Jensen sunk to the floor on his knees. He looked a moment longer, studying Misha’s cock, erect, wet at the tip, thicker than Jensen’s own and so much more beautiful. Jensen took it in his right hand and Misha’s hips thrust out at the contact. Misha groaned, “Fuck, do it.”

Jensen complied and leaned over and took the head of Misha’s cock into his mouth, pressing it against his lips, tasting Misha’s pre-come and moaning at the tangy perfection of it. He swallowed more of the head and let his tongue start to lick, experimenting, trying to follow his own gut and give in completely to doing this for the first time.

Misha’s hand was suddenly on his head, a solid pressure but not pushing, Misha’s breath was loud in the room. Jensen without moving his head, averted his eyes back up and locked gazes with Misha. Misha’s blue-blue eyes looked like a midnight sky to Jensen. Misha was licking his lips and when Misha saw Jensen looking he nodded. “You look so fucking hot.”

Jensen couldn’t help thinking that Misha had no idea about who was looking hot right then, but a flush rushed him that he knew was showing on his cheeks. He felt a spike of exhilaration he’d never felt before because his blush was about the compliment and not about shame at his current actions. He took in even more of Misha’s cock, deciding to test out how much of it he could take, letting his tongue lag behind his lips on the underside of it to see what Misha’s reaction would be.

“Fuck, Jensen, GOD,” Misha yelled out, his hips thrusting upward, his hand gripping Jensen’s hair and he could sense Misha was trying not to push Jensen down further. Jensen smiled around Misha and continued to experiment with his tongue, his mouth, how much his throat to take, then pushing himself to take more, he went up and down on Misha, causing Misha to swear and make the best sounds Jensen had ever heard.  
 

  
_Misha_   


 

Jensen was going to kill him, Misha was sure of it as he tried to not thrust too roughly into Jensen’s mouth, but Jensen kept taking it. Taking his length and doing things with his mouth and tongue Misha was going to have to write about to immortalize Jensen. Misha kept digging his fingers into Jensen’s scalp so he wouldn’t push him down and thrust up. His eyes kept threatening to roll into the back of his head at the pleasure that was zapping through him but Misha fought it. There was no way he was giving up the show of his cock sliding into Jensen’s mouth and further down any throat than anyone had ever taken him.

“Fuck, how are you doing, Jesus Christ, Jensen, so hot,” Misha barked out, his brain unable to finish any thought out loud; he kept keening and moaning and shouting broken nonsense because it was just so fucking good.    
Misha thrust up and Jensen somehow opened up and Misha was down his throat. Jensen’s eyes came back up and locked with Misha’s and Misha growled as he came, unable to warn Jensen before his world went white.

Misha blinked open his eyes, he didn’t know how much later. Jensen was still kneeling in front of him, his lips looking gloriously swollen to Misha, and they locked eyes again.

“Uh, I nev...”

Misha rushed forward and kissed Jensen. He could taste himself on Jensen’s mouth and it’d never tasted better. He surged forward and went to try to extricate Jensen’s erection from his pants when he felt wet denim and groaned at the knowledge Jensen had come too. “Oh yeah, hot,” he whispered and went about discarding Jensen’s pants, stepping out of his own completely as they were tangled around his legs. He needed all their legs free.

Kissing whatever inch of a naked, willing, and kissing him back Jensen he could, Misha managed to navigate his way into Jensen’s bedroom, grateful he knew the layout of the apartment. He pushed Jensen with a loud thump onto his bed, obviously taking Jensen by surprise from the widening of his eyes. He smiled then swore and held up a finger, “Be back in a sec,” he muttered turning around but looked back. “Don’t move,” he commanded.

 

Misha wasted no time grabbing the tube of KY he’d pushed into his pants pocket, along with a condom in a fit of optimism which he now thought of as a premonition. He figured it’d been a long time since Jensen had done anything with another man, which meant a lot of great foreplay giving them both time to recuperate from their earlier orgasms. When he got back into the bedroom, Jensen was where he’d left him, laying on the bed, only now he was leaning up his elbows his body pointed toward the door. Misha felt his stomach flip in a way it hadn’t since he was sixteen and kissed his first girlfriend. He licked his lips and made himself walk to the bed, dropped the KY and the condoms on it and then laid down to Jensen’s left side. He leant over him and kissed him.

It started gentle, just their lips pressing and pulling back from each other’s but then Jensen put his hands on the back of Misha’s neck and Misha fell over him, moving so his body was over Jensen’s. The kiss deepened, they chased each other’s tongues and when they pulled back for air, Misha just took in a breath and then started to kiss Jensen’s jaw, his neck, his clavicle, his left nipple, his right, flicking it with his tongue, then his thumb. Jensen moaned and arched up to his touch. Misha continued to kiss his way down Jensen’s body. He dipped his tongue in his navel, then down the light ginger-brown treasure trail, and found that Jensen was already half hard again. He ran his fingers over Jensen’s cock lightly then kissed the head. Misha let out a moan as he felt himself twitch at the same moment he saw Jensen’s cock move. He’d never felt so in sync with someone before, it was making him feel drunk. High on the scent of Jensen’s skin, the taste, the sounds Jensen was making, Jensen’s fingers in his hair, pushing just slightly, urging him to take Jensen’s cock in his mouth. Misha was tempted, so tempted, but he had other ideas, other things he wanted to do more. He put his hand behind him and quickly found the KY, then he pressed his palms on Jensen’s inner thighs and said in a broken voice, “Spread, baby.”

Jensen breathed in sharply but did as he was asked, hitching himself up and revealing his asshole to Misha, Misha licked his lips and squeezed KY onto his fingers but moved down and licked a circle around the hole. Jensen gasped again, his breathing speeding up and Misha smiled. “How long, baby, how long as it been?” Misha asked, each word broken by his continued teasing of the skin around Jensen’s anus with his tongue.

Silence stretched after his question, Misha, lost in enjoying the teasing flicks of his tongue, tasting Jensen and continuing to get high off of the taste was slow to sense how heavy the silence was. He moved back, looked up and met Jensen’s eyes. Jensen was staring back, breathing heavily from his mouth. When Misha met his eyes, Jensen licked his lips and averted his eyes. “Uh, truth is...” Jensen started to say when the sound of a cellphone interrupted.

Misha watched as Jensen went from deep pink flush to white. He completely blanched and he jumped away from Misha, grabbed the cellphone but didn’t answer it. He just stared at the caller ID. Misha watched, on his knees on the bed waiting for something to happen. He knew who was on the phone, it could’ve been only one person to get such a reaction from Jensen. Misha felt his own stomach drop out, guilt slamming him he allowed himself to think about the fact Jensen was married. Misha hadn’t forgotten, he’s sure Jensen hadn’t either, but they’d allowed themselves not think it through.

 _We have to talk._ That had been Misha’s mantra coming over, he might have even said it but he hadn’t acted on it because he’d seen Jensen, touched him, tasted him and he’d gotten lost in it.

Jensen moved suddenly. He was at the bureau in the room and he opened a drawer and put on a pair of dark boxer shorts. “Jensen?” Misha said, knowing that they had to talk. They couldn’t continue to pretend there was nothing to talk about, possibly there was too much to talk about, Misha thought.

“Could you get dressed?” Jensen asked, tripping over the words.

Misha closed his eyes, forced himself not to react to how much all of this hurt, to have had such a heavy, high-inducing taste of Jensen and then to have it all deflate in a matter of seconds. He counted to ten, then moved off the bed and walked down the hall without answering Jensen. He found his pants in a tangled heap on the floor and pulled them on as well as his shirt. The clothes felt stifling, his body heat still elevated from sex, from foreplay, from Jensen’s own heat. He spent another moment to try to calm down, to focus on the bigger picture, on the woman who’d just made a phone call and how they couldn’t just pretend she didn’t exist. Guilt filled Misha. He liked Danneel, she had an easy smile and a beautiful laugh. She was smart as a whip and she adored Jensen -- possibly as much as Misha did, though he honestly found that hard to believe. Probably a side effect of being in love, only you can love the person the right way -- right? Misha sighed and made his way back to the bedroom.

Jensen had put on another pair of jeans and a button down blue shirt. He had thrown a suitcase on the bed and was packing it. Misha felt his stomach drop and he swallowed. “Jensen?”

Jensen looked up. His eyes looked red rimmed and Misha caught sight of a tear trail on his cheeks and he felt the immediate well of tears in his own eyes. He blinked furiously and clenched his jaw to try to fight it off.

“This is fucked up. It’s Christmas soon, I’m going home, to my parents with my wife -- _my wife_ \-- Fuck. Misha I’m... I just... I’m married. I married her, I stood in front of the guy whose been the priest at my family’s church for my whole life, and I promised God and Danneel...”

“I know. I couldn’t make myself go. I couldn’t watch you...” Misha trailed off. He’d been surprised to be included in the bachelor party and more so the wedding, but he hadn’t been able to go to the wedding. The idea of watching the guy he’d fallen so hard for, in such a short period of time, marry someone else. It’d hurt, but not as much as this moment hurt because know he knew he could have had Jensen. If.... Misha felt a surge of anger at Jensen for never saying anything, for going through with a marriage with so many doubts. “Damn it Jensen,” came flying out of his mouth before he could tamp it down.

Jensen shook his head and looked back to his packing. “You should hate me, it’s all my fault. For running from this, for being afraid, for getting drunk last night and opening my mouth, for...now...” Jensen stuttered and trailed off at the end, not only looking down but turning his back to Misha.

Misha stood not knowing what to say, not wanting to yell but feeling like if he opened his mouth that was all that would come out. Yelling about falling in love, yelling about getting a taste and having it yanked away. He breathed in through his nose and held the breath for as long as he could with his eyes closed. When he opened them, he saw Jensen playing with the simple band that was around his left ring finger and the guilt about what they’d done to Danneel hit him again and he knew it had to be worse for Jensen. “I’m not sorry,” he said.

Jensen looked at him then.

Misha took a breath and continued. “I’m not sorry about last night, or today and I hate that this is all I’m going to get. But I understand, and I’m sorry about hurting Danneel even if she doesn’t know it. I am. You’re right, you married her. You didn’t come to me then. So yeah...”

“I’m...” but he trailed off. “Will we be...” and he trailed off again.

Misha sighed. He didn’t know if they’d be okay after all of this but he made himself nod. Jensen looked so broken, so lost, so guilty and everything in Misha wanted to just make it okay. “Yeah, we will be.”

Jensen nodded. “Bye,” he said, so softly Misha barely heard it.

Hours later, Misha found himself drunk on his couch, not remembering how he’d left Jensen’s apartment let alone made it home.

 

Three

 _Jensen_

 

Christmas was a blur to Jensen. He went through the motions of everything, catching up with his brother and sister, playing the awesome uncle for his nephew, talking with his dad and helping his mother with clean up every night. He hugged Danneel to him when she walked into his personal bubble and when she kissed him every night before they climbed into bed, he kissed her back until he couldn’t any more, then turned his back and went to bed.

And that was thing, wasn’t it? Sex was the ‘motion’ he wasn’t going through with, he couldn’t bring himself to do more than respond to her kiss in a token kind of way. He knew she wanted more, he could see it in her eyes, in her smiles that weren’t even close to being her true grin.

It was why he was standing in his mother’s kitchen, staring at the inside of her refrigerator, after midnight, two days before 2011 dawned. Danneel had crawled on top of him, run her hands under his shirt, started to kiss his neck, his jaw, tongue the inside of his mouth and he’d stopped her. He’d grabbed her hands by the wrists and sat up with her on top of him and then lifted her up and left the room. He felt like a heel, he felt like an ass and he felt more than a little relieved she hadn’t followed him.

So he was trying to tell himself he was hungry, he wanted a snack. He just had to figure out something to eat and pull it from the refrigerator. Make it, eat it and maybe by the time he went back downstairs, where the room designated as his and Danneel’s was located, his wife would be asleep and not waiting for him to ask him what the fuck was his problem. He didn’t really think she’d take well to him saying he’d feel like he was cheating on Misha. Jensen let the refrigerator slam closed and then faceplanted his forehead against it.

“Well, that does it. We are having a long conversation?” his mother’s voice said, making him jump up, turn toward her, a broken squeak coming from his throat in shock.

Donna Ackles stood in the doorway to the kitchen in her robe. She shook her head, walked to the stove, checked the kettle and then put it on. “What kind of tea would like?”

“Uh, whatever you want?” Jensen stuttered.

Donna nodded, pulled out two mugs and put in two bags of her favorite black tea. Then she turned back to Jensen. “You have been walking around in a daze since you got here, and Danneel looks on the verge of tears all the time. What the heck is going on?”

Jensen looked down at the floor and studied the patterns of the wood, wondering if by some miracle they’d give him an answer he could tell his mother. He didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t tell her about Misha, he just couldn’t. No one knew about him liking men, he’d never really admitted it himself until Misha despite a few fumbling attempts at experimenting when he was younger. He’d been too scared to go to far, he’d run away from it. All that running was probably why he was here now.

“Jensen?” Donna had her hand on his shoulder now, her voice was low and soothing. He closed his eyes and fought not to cry at her sincerity, at the worried tone in her voice, at how ashamed he felt about everything. “Baby, you aren’t happy, Danneel isn’t happy. And frankly, I’m confused, what is it? What is going on? Is it the time apart?”

“No,” he admitted. “It’s not. I wish it was that, I could fix it.”

“What is it?”

Tears fell from his eyes and he blushed embarrassed. “I can’t, Mom,” he muttered and moved away from her touch. He didn’t deserve her love here, he didn’t. “It’s my fault, though, it’s all my fault.”

“Whatever it is I’m sure you and her can work it out. You two have never had an issue talking to each other. Jensen, I just want to help,” Donna said, walking over to the kettle, stopping it just before it whistled. She poured their tea. Jensen could feel her eyes on him but he couldn’t turn around and look at her. He didn’t know what to say to her. A part of him wanted her advice, but how he could he tell her anything that was going on without disappointing her. Or possibly disgusting her, he knew his mother wasn’t homophobic, or at least he’d been raised not to be, but still for it to be her son. He wasn’t sure. The church was an important part of their lives, of his upbringing and he’d heard homophobic things his entire life in the services. Cringing every time.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mom,” he admitted.

“Nothing you tell me will make any difference to how proud I am of you,” she said.

Jensen closed his eyes, fought away sob at how much his mother believed in him. He wished he could believe it but he was disappointed in himself. He was ashamed and he was pissed. And he had no idea what the hell to do. “I’ve screwed up, Mom.”

“How?”

Jensen walked away from her, went to the window and looked out at the backyard. He couldn’t stop crying now and he realized he couldn’t keep the truth inside anymore, even if he couldn’t tell his mom everything. “I’ve cheated.”

“Oh.”

Jensen felt a wry tiny laugh die in his throat at his mother’s response. He heard the disappointment, he felt the shock, he’d never thought he’d do something so awful to another person in his life. The worst part was, he felt like he was cheating Misha too and he shouldn’t. He should only feel like he was hurting Danneel. She was his wife.

“Jensen,” Donna said and he stayed facing the window because he could hear her inhaling, processing, thinking of how to handle the information he’d given her.

“I know your disappointed. I hate myself...”

“Don’t,” Donna said sharply. “Don’t you ever hate yourself, Jensen.”

Jensen turned then. “Mom, I’ve cheated on her. On my wife. I vowed fidelity and I...”

Donna held up her hand and he stopped talking. She stepped forward and pulled them to the kitchen table. “Sit, I need to sit,” she said, as she pulled out a chair. He sat down in the chair next to her, moving it so they were face to face.

“Do you know why you did this?” she asked.

He laughed then, he couldn’t help it, it was like she was asking him why he stole a cookie from the cookie jar when he was little. She raised her eyebrows, gripped his hand and squeezed. “I think it’s an important question, Jensen,” she said.

Jensen nodded and he closed his eyes. Why? Images of Misha flashed through his mind. Their first meeting, the first time they shared a beer after work and talked about a million meaningless things, his hands, his mouth, those damn blue eyes, the crazy sardonic sense of humor. The way he played with the fans and his huge damn heart. “Yeah, I know why,” he said, his heart thudding.

“Why?”

“I love...” He trailed off and his mouth went dry. Feeling it was so different then saying it. He’d said it though: he loved Misha. God, what was he supposed to do?

“You love this other person?” Donna said her eyes wide with shock. “Jensen?”

He sighed. “I do,” he said rubbing his eyes with his free arm. “I’ve screwed up, Mom.”

“How long?” Donna asked.

“Before the wedding,” Jensen admitted.

“Jensen!” she said sharply. “I.... Who is it?”

Jensen was shaking his head before he even thought that he couldn’t, he really couldn’t, tell his mother it was Misha. Not now, not yet, maybe? He sighed, he did’t know what he was going to do.

“Jensen?”

“Mom, does it matter?”

“If you think you love her,” Donna said.

A bark stopped Jensen from saying, _I don’t think, I know, _to his mother. It’d come into his head loud and sharp and angry at her for making it sound like he only thought he loved Misha. He turned toward the sound just in time to see a flying dog as Icarus jumped into his lap, followed by the sound of Danneel coming into the room. She gave him a wobbly smile.__

 _“Hi, Donna, I didn’t know you were up too, I’ll...”_

 _“No. No.” Donna stood up. “You two drink the tea. Talk,” she said, pointedly to Jensen. “Jensen and I can finish talking later.” With that said, Donna left the room and Jensen found himself alone with his wife._

 _“Do you want tea?” he asked, getting up to grab the mugs._

 _“No. Not really,” Danneel said._

 _“Yeah, uh,” he dumped them out, teabags and all, into the sink. “Me either.”_

 _“I wanted to make love to my husband.”_

 _Jensen closed his eyes and made the only decision he could handle. “Not here.”_

 _“Excuse me?” Danneel said. “Jensen, we’ve done it here -- in this very room -- before.”_

 _Jensen sighed, blushing a little as remembered the time she was talking about, the summer he did, A Few Good Men, before Misha showed up and twisted his world into an entire new shape. “I didn’t mean... I meant we need to talk, there are things, I just can’t do it here. At my parents. Can it wait until we get home?”_

 _Danneel let out a huff of air, crossed her arms over her chest and started to tap her foot. Icarus was standing near her and when the tapping started he started to run around her in circles. “Damn it,” she muttered, bending down to pick up the dog. “We need to deal with whatever _this_ is that is going on. I can’t take this anymore. I don’t even know what it is, Jensen. This is all you, isn’t it?”_

Jensen nodded. “Yeah. It is all on me.”

“We leave, we get back to Vancouver, we talk?” Danneel said.

“Yes. I promise.” Jensen said.

“Fine, I guess it’s as good as it’s going to get for now, isn’t it?” she asked, while agreeing to his terms.

Jensen nodded and crossed the room, he kissed her forehead wishing he could comfort her in the way she craved, the way she wanted. “Thank you.”

“Are you coming back downstairs?” she asked.

Jensen closed his eyes. He didn’t know what the hell to do. Should he go back downstairs, should he sleep up here on the couch in the family room? He bit his lip, thinking.

“Please, Jensen, please? Just hold me, okay?” Danneel asked, her voice the smallest he’s ever heard it.

Fuck. He was horrible, he was horrible person. “Yeah, yeah, okay,” he said and put his arm around her. Danneel dropped Icarus and the three of them went downstairs. Jensen wanted to run in the other direction and stay with her at the same time. He had to start figuring out what he was going to do.

When Danneel had called and stopped him and Misha from fucking for the first time, he’d thought in that moment that he couldn’t run from his vows. The promise he’d made to her. He loved her, he did love her even if it wasn’t at all like how he felt for Misha. And fuck Misha. He hadn’t said it even to himself before, but he’d told his mother and it’d been true. He was in love with Misha. Could he love him both? Was his mother’s thought that he just thought he was in love with Misha true?

Jensen swallowed hard, he and Danneel were in their room. He made his way to his side of the bed, Icarus already turning in a circle to ready to settle by Danneel’s feet on her side. She climbed in and looked at him waiting, her eyes shiny and her jaw clenching like she was trying to not cry and _he did that to her_. All his fault, and he’d always thought he was a good guy. What a crock of shit that’d been, Jensen bit the inside of his cheek and crawled into his bed with Danneel, and let her snuggle into his chest. He’d hold her, he wanted too hold her even, but he didn’t feel deserving.

 

  
_MISHA_   


 

“Why the hell not?” Vicky yelled at Misha, mostly so she could be heard in the noisy bar they were in.

“I don’t want too,” Misha said, not raising his voice but making sure to enunciated every word perfectly so she could at least read his lips. Vicky was his first girlfriend, and his forever friend. Sometimes they still had sex, but not recently, and Misha didn’t think it was likely to happen again and given he was hopelessly in love with someone else he was fine with that fact.

“But these two people could be perfect for you! And you should at least MEET ONE!” she screamed.

“NO!” he yelled back.

Vicky glared at him and started to play with the cherry in her drink, twirling it around in the alcohol and studying him. “A him or a her?” she finally asked, shouting of course, as she pulled the cherry out of the liquid, stuck out her tongue and placed it on it and made it disappear into her mouth.

Misha let his head fall onto the sticky table. Bow legs, freckled skin, full lips, wide green eyes that could bore into him like no one else. _Jensen, Jensen, Jensen_. “No one,” he muttered into the wood of the table.

Vicky started to poke at his head with the butt of her butter knife. Poke, poke, poke, until he sat back up and grabbed the knife, and glared at her. He had nothing on her glare. “So why can’t you meet Heather or Wyatt?”

“I don’t want to,” he shouted back.

She kept glaring.

Misha drained the rest of his beer, holding her stare and hoping like hell he would win this because the last thing he wanted to do was tell her about Jensen. He blinked.

Vicky smiled.

He swore.

“We are leaving,” she announced with a toothy grin of triumph and got up, waiting for him to follow her through the crowd. All Misha could hope was she let them get to his mom’s house before she grilled him like steak. It was a twenty minute walk, he didn’t have high hopes.

Outside there was a light snow but it felt warmer than it had earlier in the day. Misha smiled as he remembered the complexity of New England weather and followed Vicky up the hill, grateful she was a few steps ahead of him. When she stopped at the corner waiting for him to catch up, she gave him a scolding look that told him that, yep, he was in for it now.

“Talk,” she said and linked their arms together by the elbows, effectively handcuffing him to her without any handcuffs. Damn her.

“I don’t wanna,” he said and realized how outright childlike he sounded.

“Too bad, Misha. Who is she?”

He stayed quiet.

“He?” Vicky pressed.

He must have changed his expression despite his intention to remain blank because Vicky ‘hmmed’ and nudged him. “Name?”

“Vicky.”

“God, I hope his name isn’t Vicky,” she laughed but went back to business. “You are going to tell me sooner or later, I say it’d be in your best interests to do so before you mom joins the conversation. She’s worse than me when she gets a bone...” Vicky trailed off.

Misha panicked because Vicky was right and when he told his mother, he’d be told to go after Jensen no matter what, because if Jensen’s wanted him as long as the evidence suggested, the he was open game. Hell, Vicky might say that too but he might be able to convince Vicky why he can’t. Why he was so sure Jensen is going to try to make his marriage work and Misha was going to have to take just friendship. Of course then Vicky will want to set him up even more so and his reasons for saying no would be ignored.

“Just tell me,” Vicky said, impatient.

“Fine, but when I’m done, I still don’t want to meet either of your friends, got it?”

Vicky stayed quiet.

“I mean it, that is my deal. I tell you what you want to know, you agree to not set me up for the foreseeable future.”

“Foreseeable? That’s unacceptable. Two months, for two months?”

“Three?”

“Fine, three months I won’t try to set you up. Though Heather and Wyatt will probably both be off the market by then.”

“I’ll risk it,” Misha said.

“Then we have a deal, spill. You only have fifteen minutes until we get to your mom’s.”

“It’s Jensen,” Misha said because starting off with that was the big twist, the hardest thing to admit to. That he’d let himself fall for not only his co-star but his very involved with someone else co-star.

Vicky stopped walking, forcing Misha to stop trying to out-walk the conversation. He’d sped up after he spoke and nearly fell due to Vicky’s abrupt stop. After regaining his balance he risked looking at her. She was staring at him, eyes wide, mouth a bit open. “Really? Jensen? But you don’t usually fall for the pretty guys. You ogle but you never fall for them.”

“Jensen isn’t some pretty faced twink with nothing to offer. He’s brilliant, the way he reads the script and breaks down his character, is always aware of every job done on the set, and who does them, the way he looks at things is brilliant. Why the hell do you think they let him direct an episode because he batted his eyelashes. He earned it and he didn’t even ask!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Vicky held up her free hand. “I surrender, he’s not a pretty one. He’s a deep one.”

Misha sighed, his anger abating and realized he’d just completely jumped to Jensen’s defense for really no reason whatsoever. He was so screwed, how was he supposed to see him all the time on set and get over him? Pretend that they were okay, he’d told Jensen they would be okay and he felt like he had to keep that promise.

“Sorry,” he said and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“You are totally in love with him aren’t you?” she asked.

Misha looked away.

“Oh my God,” she said.

Misha couldn’t do anything but nod and started them walking again, turned out if you stayed still it was pretty cold outside. “It’s cold, let’s move,” he said.

Vicky walked with him and was uncharacteristically quiet for a long while. “Isn’t he married?” she finally asked.

Misha laughed. “Yeah, he’s married all right.”

“So, you’re walking around with an unrequited love for your married co-star? Misha, you aren’t that stupid?”

Misha laughed because he was that stupid, he’d been that stupid since day one of meeting Jensen and it’d only gotten worse. Despite his attempts to keep it in the back of his mind, to never act it -- that one time at the bachelor party didn’t count, it didn’t -- he was totally in love with Jensen. But when he thought he had no chance, it was easier to swallow, easier to handle, easier to lie to himself that he’d get over it until it wasn’t a lie. “It’s not unrequited,” he said.

“It isn’t?”

“But, he’s staying with her,” Misha added quickly.

Vicky stopped walking again, but this time he was going as slow she, letting out details little by little and realizing he wasn’t telling her anything. She was going to pull the whole story out of him. Misha wasn’t sure he could handle it, his heart was already pounding and his eyes were stinging, and he knew he couldn’t blame the walk or the cold.

“It has been though, hasn’t it. Unrequited?

“I thought so,” Misha admitted, hating Vicky somewhat for her intuition, her ability to grasp complex emotional situations and what made people tick. Of course usually it was what made her his favorite partner in crime for messing with people’s heads. She had a lot of input on his Twitter messages for instance.

Vicky sighed and started pulling him in a different direction. “We’re going to my house, to talk this out, not your mom’s. I have a feeling we’ll need time for you to give me the whole picture. Time and alcohol.”

Misha couldn’t argue.

 

Chapter Four

 _Misha ___

 _Vicky emptied the wine bottle into Misha’s glass, her head shaking back and forth as she did so. “Misha, you’ve loved him for two years!”_

 _Misha shrugged, because she had him, he’d been in love and stupid about Jensen for two years. It was showing no sign of stopping either; now it was tens times worse._

 _“Two years...and you never told me?” Vicky pinned him with a glare._

 _He stared at her. “Are you serious? I tell you everything that has happened and you’re mad I didn’t tell you I’m an idiot in love with my married co-star.”_

 _“No, you’re an idiot who fell for his _unmarried_ co-star and didn’t go for it when you had a chance. Why didn’t you keep kissing him the night of his bachelor party?”_

Misha groaned. “Because, he looked pissed off, I thought he was going to punch me to be honest. I just wanted a taste, before he was lost forever.” Misha gulped down half of his wine glass, half wondering if Vicky had another bottle.

“I don’t think he was mad, Misha, not after his seduction attempt at your party...”

“Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty, Vic,” Misha snapped. Obviously he’d misread Jensen that night, but Jensen hadn’t been very forthright himself, had he? “He never gave me a sign that he felt anything for me.”

“Until he slammed you against a wall,” Vicky grinned. “Got say, he’s got style when finally snaps.”

The memory of that moment flooded Misha, the suddenness, the heat of Jensen’s body, the feel of his hands against his ribs, the way Jensen was staring at him. “Don’t remind me,” Misha moaned, his mind traveling from there to the memory to the memory of Jensen’s mouth swallowing him down. “Fuck,” he muttered as his cock twitched and went half-hard.

“Man, that really was some blow job, wasn’t it?” Vicky said and she reached over and grabbed his hand. Misha hated her and loved her for knowing him so well, he squeezed her hand and made himself meet her eyes. Compassion filled them, no more teasing, no more glares and Vicky sighed. “I’m going to say something and I want you to hear me out.”

Misha sighed.

“I get he’s married but from what you’ve told me, I think he screwed up --” Vicky held up her free hand, sensing that Misha was about to interrupt her. “I get that’s an understatement, marriage is.... It’s a huge deal, it’s why at the last minute we decided not to right after high school, right? Good thing we’re both so wise, not everyone can be. Look, he messed up, and I think -- I think you should fight for him.”

“I can’t.”

Vicky squeezed his hand again, but shook her head. “You love him, Mish, I’ve never seen you this gone before in my life and I can’t believe I didn’t realize you were keeping something so huge from me. I mean, I knew you weren’t really dating, I just thought you were focusing on work, the charity, and meeting the wrong people. I should’ve figured out there was someone, way before tonight.” She sighed. “Okay, this isn’t about me, but I know you and you love him. I think you should go for it.”

“I can’t.” Misha drained his glass and leaned back in his chair, but kept his grip on his best friend’s hand. Her palm was warm and her grip was tight, and it felt like a solid lifeline when everything else seemed to be falling to the ground.

“Why not? You two have already cheated. From what you told me, he’s been emotionally cheating on her for two years at the most, the last seven months -- as in their whole marriage -- at the least.”

“He goes to church every Sunday,” Misha said, his head spinning because he just wanted to agree with her. He wanted to thank her for the go ahead to go try to break up a marriage. And he felt slammed with guilt at the same time. And most of it was about Jensen and not even about Danneel -- which made him feel like a douchebag. “When she called, one the first things out his mouth was about the priest that married them. The promise is something sacred for him. I saw his face, Vicky, he’s going to stay in his marriage.”

Vicky sighed. “Because of Christian guilt? That sounds stupid.”

Misha sighed. “Maybe, but it matters to him, it matters to his family, it’s not something he takes lightly. It’s not just a promise to Danneel to him, I think it’s all caught up in the way he was raised by his family, the Church.”

“The fact he’s in the closet.”

Misha rolled his eyes at that. “It’s not exactly smart for an actor to be out as bisexual. I mean I don’t hide from my friends, but it’s not out there either, Vicky.”

“I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Misha laughed bitterly. “Me either.”

“What are you going to do? I mean how the hell are you going to work with him?”

The bitter laugh barked out of him again and Misha grabbed Vicky’s full wine glass and drained it. “Beats me. But I told him we’d be okay and I’m....”

“What, going to pretend you are?”

“I have to, Vicky.”

Vicky’s eyes narrowed. “No you don’t. He hurt you, you don’t owe him anything.”

Misha shrugged. “He looked so broken when she called, I couldn’t... I am mad at him but I can’t hold on to it. It comes and it goes because then I see his slumped shoulders and the guilt in his eyes. I told him we’d be okay, I guess I’ll just see it as an acting challenge. At this point I’m going to take whatever I can get of him, so a good working relationship, friendship, it’s what I’m going hold on too. I’m fighting for that.”

“It’s going to be awkward and impossible. You know he wants you too, it’s not some unrequited, dumb crush on co-star. It’s being in love with a man who has feelings for you too. I want to hit him.”

Misha grinned. “Thanks, Vic,” he said, loving that she cared about him so much. “I know I’m crazy, but I am, I am going to fight to make things seem like they always have with him. I just... I think I promised him it would be okay, or it felt like promise. Damn this wine is starting to go to my head. Maybe I should tweet about inane things while it makes my eye sight all blurry.”

“No tweeting under the influence, don’t you remember the rules?” Vicky muttered but she let him change the subject. “I’m going to go put together a snack, get some food in you, try not pine too loud.”

Misha nodded but all he could think about was Jensen and how he had no idea how he was ever going to be able to be in a room with him again without thinking about what it was like kissing him, touching him, coming undone underneath him.

 

  
_Jensen_   


 

There is no safe place in their Vancouver apartment, it was too small, Jensen realized, as he turned in a circle in the middle of the living room. The couch feels like a living thing in his head, a reminder of what he did with Misha. The bed in the bedroom was the same. They both yell at him that he cheated. That he enjoyed it. That he needed it. That it was more right than wrong despite how wrong was. It was a mistake only because he went about it all wrong, he hadn’t been free.

Jensen sighed and crossed his arms against his chest. He started to pace. He heard Danneel enter the room before he saw her. They’d been home less than an hour, and she’d gone to shower and change, leaving it unsaid that, when she was done, they were talking. That was loud in the clear in the silence that had been looming between them for the past few days.

He had to make himself move to look at her. She was in sweats, her hair in a pony tail, still damp from the shower. She looked fresh, young and innocent to him in that moment and it made him feel more like asshole. He’d hurt her and she didn’t know it yet, he’d lied to her their entire relationship, he’d married her knowing his heart wasn’t hundred percent hers, and he’d cheated because it was inevitable -- he knew that now. There was no way he wasn’t going to break when it came to Misha. It didn’t matter what Misha wanted. He would have let himself get drunk, and do something because he wanted Misha more than he’d wanted anyone in his life. That Misha wanted him back, or had, anyway, made it worse not better. Because he could have done the right thing before the wedding and not have done this to Danneel.

“So,” Danneel said and Jensen could tell from her tone she was trying to sound nonchalant, but she was anything but. “No time like now, right?” she said.

Jensen sighed and tried to think of how the hell to start what he needed to say. Danneel started to cross the room. He saw she was going for the couch and he swallowed. “Uh, sit here,” he muttered, hurrying across the room, grabbing her shoulders and putting her in the chair he sat in when he read his scripts. He then pulled the coffee table over a bit, so he could use that for a seat. He covered his face for a moment and tried to figure out where the hell to start.

“Jensen?”

Jensen nodded to let her know he heard her. “Just, give me a minute, I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning works,” Danneel said with a wry smile.

Jensen met her eyes and saw too much hope there. She was thinking they could work whatever this was out and he knew they couldn’t. They wouldn’t. He didn’t want too, he realized with a slight start. The beginning, she said? When was that, when he met Misha, when he met her? When first kissed Todd Teagarden and then ran from it because he thought it was wrong -- he can’t even remember what it was that had happened that made him realize that people in his life, in his church thought two men was a sin. After learning that he’d run away from any feelings for a guy past friendship, until Misha. Only he’d realized way too late and then he’d been afraid because he didn’t know what to do about it -- if he should do anything at all -- and he’d felt obligated to Danneel. _Asshole_ floated into Jensen’s mind. He was going to have to do a lot of atoning because of it and he could start by giving her the truth.

“There’s something I’ve never told you about me,” he said.

Danneel leaned forward, grabbed his hands. “Jensen you can tell me anything.”

Jensen swallowed. He was going to break that trust. “I told you my first kiss was Abby Stone.”

“This is about your first kiss?”

Jensen nodded. “In a way, yeah, it is. My first kiss wasn’t Abby Stone. My first kiss was Todd Teagarden.”

“What?” Danneel said, eyes blinking, head shaking and then stopping. “What?”

“Todd Teagarden. We were both on the baseball team, first year, we were sophomores. The only ones who made the team that year. His place was closer to the school, we’d walk there and his parents let me stay for dinner, then hang out. We hung out in his basement, playing video games, talking about practice. And one day....” Jensen closed his eyes, remembering the moment. “We stopped laughing at the same time and were looking right at each other and we kissed. It wasn’t me or him, it was us, and we kissed. And then we started playing video games, talking about practice and making out,” Jensen said and stopped, waiting for Danneel to catch up. To see if she had.

“Okay, okay.” Danneel let out a deep breath. “I don’t understand why your first kiss matters, be it guy or girl. I’m surprised it was a guy, I am, but?” She looked at him. “Jensen?” she said, asking for him to make things clear.

“I really liked him, Dani. A lot, Todd. He was fun and funny, and the kissing was great. And I can’t remember exactly what was said but there was some hate crime in the area and that week at church there was a sermon. It was about tolerance in its way, it was about not reacting violently to those who have chosen a life style outside of God. It was about hating the sin, not the sinner, and trying to bring them back to the right. I guess I remember more than I thought,” Jensen said, cutting himself off. “The thing is, all I heard was what I was doing was wrong, and Josh said a few things afterwards that were homophobic while hanging out with his friends at home. He’d probably be appalled if he recalled what he said now. And my parents didn’t say anything about it all, so I figured they agreed. So the next day, when we were in the basement and Todd went to kiss me, I told him we had to stop because I wasn’t gay. We could be friends but we couldn’t do that.” Jensen swallowed, remembering that Todd had been mad and made him leave but about a week later, they were friends again and neither of them ever mentioned the kissing again. “He even forgave me, I don’t know why,” he added in a whisper.

“That’s sad, I...Jensen you know better now, I don’t....what does this have to do with us?”

“It’s that I’m bisexual, it’s that I’ve always run from it. I’ve done a few other things with guys but not much. I get afraid, I start to think that my parents will hate me and won’t want to talk to me, that my brother would too. Then I started acting and I thought it might cost me roles. And, I told myself it didn’t matter anyway because I like girls too.”

“But it does matter?”

“Yeah. Because it’s never gone away. And as I got older, I realized my parents aren’t homophobic and neither is Josh. Mac’s best friend is a lesbian, you know. But, I am afraid of their reaction, even now, because I’m their son, you know?

“I doubt they’ll care. We’re married...Jensen?” Danneel asked, begging him to start making sense. Jensen could see in her eyes, she was getting scared.

“I cheated.”

 

Chapter Five

  


  
_Jensen_   


 

“I cheated.”

The words hung in the air, Jensen could hear his own heartbeat, it was loud and angry in his ears, his guilt embodied in the sound of it. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Danneel, not to look down in shame like he wanted too, not stand up and move away. He forced himself to wait for her to respond.

Danneel’s face was blank, it felt like it was that way forever. “No,” she said, finally, shaking her head. “No, no, no...not...never...you...” she stared at him, questioningly, her head shaking back and forth in denial, wanting to have faith in him.

Jensen nodded his head, up, down. “Yes,” he said, hating how it came out in a shameful whisper.

There was a sharp quick pain, his vision blurred and he heard Danneel swearing and muttering, she stood up quickly and disappeared from the room. Jensen’s hand was at his nose, he took it away, there was blood but it didn’t seem to be gushing. It finally processed in his mind that she’d punched him hard once in the nose. He stood up, grabbed a few tissues from a tissue box and pressed them against his nose.

There was water running from the kitchen, he followed it and found Danneel with her hand under running water. Her knuckles were red but it didn’t look like she’d broken any skin.

“You okay?” Jensen asked, meaning her hand, realizing too late what a dumb question it was to ask.

“I’m I okay?” Danneel snapped, looking right at him, her eyes widening a bit as she saw he was dapping at his nose still with the tissues. “No,” she said her voice small. “Who?”

Jensen had hoped she wouldn’t ask him that. “Do you really need to know?”

“Who. Is. He,” she demanded.

“It’s Misha,” he admitted, remembering he’d decided to tell her truth at the beginning of this conversation. He wasn’t going to back away now.

“Misha?” Danneel echoed, her face blank once again before it fell back to angry and upset. “Misha!”

Jensen nodded and tossed the tissued into the trash, his nose seemed okay -- it was probably the most okay part about him -- he was shaking, he was guilty, he was ending his marriage.

“I...” Danneel muttered and the she let herself fall to the floor, using the counter as a way to slow her fall to the linoleum. Her head fell into her hands and she shook her head. “You, this, no, I don’t...Misha?”

Jensen didn’t know what to do, Danneel had a lot of information flying in her head. His betrayal, his bisexuality, that it was his co-star he’d cheated on her with. He swallowed down the urge to apologize. He would apologize someday but now wasn’t the time, he owed Danneel however long she needed to deal with the situation. Jensen joined her on the kitchen floor, knees pulled to his chin and waited.

It was the longest moment of Jensen’s life, he didn’t measure it, he was afraid to, it was hard to wait out Danneel, she was next to him breathing, taking in deep breaths and then blowing them out, sighing and then starting all over again, trying to control her breath. It meant she was pissed, it meant she was angry -- he wanted her to start to yell at him, to ask him questions he didn’t want to answer. And he wanted to get up and run away, he didn’t want to answer questions because it would just open up the whole big can of worms.

They never should have gotten married. He never should have asked her, he’d been trying to deny something he no longer wanted to deny. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way meeting Misha, being attracted to him and falling for him had made Jensen realize he no longer wanted to run from his full sexuality. The only problem was he’d gone along with the -- the bad habit -- he rolled his eyes, he didn’t know what to call his stupidity. It’d be one thing if he’d only hurt himself, but he hadn’t, he’d hurt Danneel, Misha, and possibly would hurt his family.

“How long?” Danneel said, her voice quieter than Jensen expected. He thought maybe she’d yell first, hit him again. And how long? If only that question had an easy answer.

“Before the wedding,” he said, truthfully, honestly. “Maybe, even before I proposed,” he added, because he’d been fantasizing about Misha daily at that point, telling himself the crush would fade away eventually with each moment alone in the shower with his hand.

Danneel sputtered out words that weren’t words, she stood up and started to pace in front of him. Jensen stood up and when she saw him on his feet, she started to hit him with her fists on his chest, repeatedly. “What the hell, Jensen, what the hell...this isn’t happening!”  
 She started to cry, tears streaming down her face and he watched her breath in and step away from him, watched as she tried to stop crying. Danneel wiped her face with her sleeve. “Who the hell are you?” she spat out at him on the wave of a sob and stormed out of the kitchen. He heard their bedroom door slam shut and ran his hand up the back of his neck, looking down at the ground wishing it would swallow him up.

Then the door flew open again and Danneel was at the threshold of the kitchen. “Did you two sleep in that bed?” she yelled.

“No, not really -- we haven’t slept together, I didn’t even know he liked me back until recently.” Jensen said but he felt a bit outside of himself at the moment. He had to be, to not feel the guilt and the shame, to not apologize for turning out to be a bastard, because he couldn’t make this about him. He wouldn’t do that to Danneel.

“You...the party, when you got drunk, what the hell really happened?”

“I hit on him.”

“You made the first move?”

“Yes, no,” Jensen said as memories flew through his head. “He, uh, he kissed me the night of my bachelor party but he said it was a joke -- and I was hurt by that and buried it down. Focused on the wedding but I couldn’t stop thinking about him, I mean he’s...” Jensen tried to stop the smile but he couldn’t because Misha made him smile. Even now when he was breaking Danneel’s world up, thinking about Misha made something happen inside of his chest that was warm and good. “He’s Misha, you can’t get him out of your head when he’s always needling at you to get under your skin and see how you’ll react.”

“The bachelor party?” Danneel put her hands to her ears, Jensen thought, it was as if she thought maybe if she covered them up everything he’d said could be taken back.

“Yeah. And at his Christmas party, I was drunk and he was in the middle of all these people, only half of whom I knew, flirting and smiling and I wanted him for myself...” Jensen trailed off, remembering the jealousy that had propelled him, feeling the jealousy again at just memory. “Shit, Dani, I”m...”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare!” she shouted.

“I am,” Jensen said anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Danneel stared at him. “You did do something in our bedroom though, didn’t you?”

“We almost...we were on the bed.”

“What stopped you?”

“You called.”

Danneel wiped at her face again, she breathed in and he could hear that her nose had filled up from her crying. “Yeah...great, just...well at least I didn’t unpack.”

Jensen felt a shot to his gut. “You’re leaving?” he said, and that was second dumb question he’d asked. Of course she was, he was ending their marriage here -- he was fine with that. It was Danneel he didn’t want to lose, her friendship, her presence in his life. It hurt his entire body felt slammed against a hard ground at the idea of losing Danneel’s presence in his day to day life. Jensen closed his eyes, trying to calm down, but he couldn’t hide from the fact he’d made a mess that probably could never be completely fixed.

“I can’t stay here, Jensen, I can’t. I can’t even think and I really don’t want to look at you.”

Jensen nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, instead of his lip, to keep from trying apologize again.

“Obviously, when...if... God, damn it. We’ll have to talk about this, but, uh, not now. I’m going to take Icarus and go to a hotel, that’s all I know for now.”

“Want me to call the hotel?” Jensen asked. “When you’re changing, closing up the bags? I can call a cab?” It was something, it wasn’t what Danneel wanted but it was something.

“You really aren’t going to beg me to stay here?”

Jensen blinked, shocked by the question. “You don’t want me to, do you?”

“No, yes, it doesn’t matter, it’s just...” Danneel turned away. “Yeah, call the hotel for me and a cab. Thanks.”

Less than hour later, Jensen was alone in the apartment, hand on the back of his neck, staring at the carpet in the bedroom, wondering if he could ever earn back Danneel’s friendship.

~~

  
_Misha_   


 

Misha had thought as he left his house in Vancouver at 10 in the morning, coming back from Boston before the weekend was over was a huge mistake. But when he walked into Willobee’s Diner for breakfast and the first people he saw were Jared, Genevieve and Jensen sitting in a booth, Jared’s freakishly long arm in the air waving him over, that it was really leaving his house that had been his biggest mistake.

The problem was his house had been full of Jensen. Jensen’s ass sticking out when he had his head buried in Misha’s fridge, Jensen pinning him to the wall next to his bedroom door, the way Jensen’s hands had felt against his ribs, warm, calloused and stroking. There was Jensen on his bed revealing his feelings for Misha, and changing everything in Misha’s world and his own in that moment. Misha kept reliving that night, then his mind would go to Jensen’s apartment, how Jensen’s mouth felt against his, how it felt to have his hands against Jensen, to thrust his tongue against Jensen’s. Misha remembered being on Jensen’s couch, receiving that amazing blow job, the n how they’d be in the bedroom at the verge of something more amazing when the inevitable awful end to the night happened. Stopping short whatever it was he and Jensen maybe had almost had, could’ve had if maybe Misha done something different before hand, if Jensen hadn’t been playing straight and hiding from Misha.

And there was Jensen, the man Misha loved and wanted to hate, sitting across from Jared and Genevieve, watching him cross the room with those damn round eyes of his. Misha sat down in the seat next to him and felt the stiffness that Jensen was doing his best to hide from the other two. Misha felt just as tense, just as wary, and he smiled hello. “Small world.”

Jared grinned. “Sure is, we ran into Jensen in the parking lot. Gen had a craving for the pancakes here.”

“I sure did!” Genevieve said. “We haven’t ordered yet, so you had great timing.”

Misha nodded and bit the bullet and asked the one question he had for Jensen that would seem innocuous but was anything but in his own heart. “Where is Danneel?”

“She had to go to L.A.,” Jensen said, hands fiddling with the edge of his menu. Then he cleared his throat, “I know what I’m getting, here you go.” Jensen slid the menu over so it was in front of Misha.

“Thanks,” Misha said, and he started to scan the menu, trying to decide between the usual three breakfast meals he always found himself ordering, but finding it difficult. He could feel Jensen’s body heat, he could feel Jensen forcing himself not to push himself into the corner of the booth. Just like Misha himself was fighting the urge not to fall out of the booth. He was sure Jensen was in the same boat as him, wanting to be closer, but also wanting to do the opposite more because they couldn’t be closer, so they had to be far away.

He’d told Jensen they’d be okay, they’d be friends. Vicky had been right, what an impossible promise. And what about Danneel, had she really just needed to go to Los Angeles for some reason or had he told her. Come clean to try to save his marriage by revealing lies? Misha had seen the guilt eating away at Jensen. Jensen had come onto him not only because of attraction but because he was falling apart from all the lies, having pushed the truth away for so long.

“Hey, folks, what can I get you?” The waitress startled Misha, and he heard Jensen gasp next to him, startled too. They were both wound too tight, Misha thought, he glanced at Jared and Genevieve, worried they were picking up on the tension. Jared though was talking animately to their waitress, asking about every breakfast special in detail and Genevieve was watching her husband with unabashed amusement and love. It made Misha envious.

The feeling grew when, Genevieve said, “I need to go to the ladies room.” Stood up and left the table, Jared’s eyes fell to the backside of his retreating wife and he cleared his throat and said. “You know, I need to pee.” And he was gone, followed shortly by Genevieve’s laughter when he caught up to her before she even made it half way to the restrooms with his long strides.

Love was irritating when you didn’t have it, Misha thought, or when you did have it but weren’t allowed too because the man you loved was married and wanted to save his marriage from his own idiocy. And Jensen was an idiot, he should be mad at Jensen for not saying anything, then giving him a brief moment and taking it all away again. I hate him, Misha thought, trying it out but then he looked toward Jensen and instantly wanted to take the thought back.

Jensen was looking at him when he turned and turned away, a second too late because their gazes locked and Misha felt his heart go to his throat. Jensen was now toying with his spoon, looking at it, cradling the handle between his blunt fingers, looking down and Misha could hear him thinking even if he couldn’t make out the actual thoughts.

“So, uh, Danneel really just need to go to L.A.,” Misha heard himself say before his brain caught up to the fact his mouth was going to be stupid. It was his usual modus operandi but still how stupid was he being? He’d let his curious get the better of him, and he really wasn’t any of his business. He wanted to take it back but Jensen stopped him by not even noticing how stupid the question was and simply answering, all without looking away from the spoon.

“No. I told her. I told her it was you. Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay,” Misha heard his mouth say, even as he wondered if it was okay. No, he didn’t mind Jensen telling the truth his wife. He really didn’t mind that Jensen was telling him the truth. Hell, he wished Jensen had told the truth to everyone all along, wished Jensen had told the truth, to himself. Still wondered what it was that had stopped him. Misha pondered, not for the first time, since Jensen had revealed his feelings that if Misha hadn’t made his decision to try to deny his own crush, if that one time he’d acted on it he hadn’t instantly hid behind making the kiss a joke. Misha wondered if maybe things would be much different and much better now.

“She won’t tell, anyone, I don’t think.”

“She’s angry?” Misha’s said and he rolled his eyes at himself, he was giving the term dumb a new definition of strength. Of course Danneel was angry.

“Angry, confused, she said she didn’t know me. I don’t blame her,” Jensen said, then he looked up at Misha. Jensen’s eyes always gave away his emotions, his thoughts, it was one of his greatest strengths as actor and Jensen knew it and used it. They were stark naked with pain and Misha wanted to touch and kiss that raw pain away. His heart started to pound in his ears.

“I, you know, I got to go, I’ll go find the waitress and cancel my order,” Misha stuttered out, sliding out the booth, stopping only when Jensen’s hand gripped his wrist. It was a sudden stab of heat, and a shudder of some kind rolled through Misha that he was sure came straight from Jensen’s own body. He licked his lips and met Jensen’s eyes, now sadness was there along with the pain and Misha wanted to add his own grip to Jensen’s hold and pull the other man up and against him. But he couldn’t. He had to stay away and let Jensen work things out with Danneel. He pulled his hand to get lose from Jensen and Jensen let Misha go. Misha’s felt punched in the gut at the lose of contact. “I hope you two work it out,” he said quickly, turning as the words came out. He had to leave before he did grab Jensen and stake a claim he didn’t have.

 

Chapter Six  
 _Jensen_

 

Jared and Genevieve kissed, a long, soft, lingering kiss, at the threshold of the game room in their house in Vancouver. She’s off to do something, Jensen doesn’t know what it is, he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He’d been doing okay, faking being fine, hanging out with his best friend and his wife. Being normal. Until Misha.

Misha had walked into the restaurant and it’d hit Jensen that he was lying again. This time to Jared, his best friend. He was allowing Jared to continue to believe that he and Danneel were as giddily and glowingly happy as he and Genevieve were. The guilt settled into the pit of his stomach along with the want, that always accompanied being in Misha presence. Misha slid into the booth next to him, and Jensen felt all the hairs on the back his neck rise up, felt Misha’s body heat, felt Misha’s tension at being beside him. Noticed how Misha was avoiding looking directly at him. Not that Jensen had been seeking out eye contact, as much as he wanted it, as much as he wanted to slide just a bit toward Misha in the booth. To have their thighs barely touching, and feel the heat between their bodies.

It’d happened. They’d connected their gaze, Jensen had grabbed at Misha’s wrist because he’d seen him start to flee and hadn’t wanted to let him. He wanted Misha to stay, but he had had no right to ask him to stay. So he’d watched Misha leave. Jensen could still feel the heat of Misha’s skin, the quick pounding of Misha’s pulse his fingers had accidentally found in that one grip.

“Jensen!”

Jensen jumped, blinked realizing Jared and Genevieve were no longer at the door to the game room. Jared was alone with him, holding up two video games, staring at Jensen like he’d sprouted wings. “Uh,” Jensen stammered, his mind whirling. So it was video games he’d come to the house to play. He’d been lost to anything going on around him, except to try to say yes, and give a non-committable uh-huh, at the right moments. He’d failed this time.

“Where the hell are you? You’ve been out of it all day,” Jared said.

“Uh, yeah,” Jensen felt the heal of his palm against his cheek, an unconscious habit when embarrassed, or feeling self-conscious. “Uh, there is something I gotta tell you,” he said. He hadn’t planned to tell Jared anything, not yet anyway, but the guilt had been weighing him down since the restaurant. He’d started telling the truth and he had to keep telling the truth from now on. Telling Jared wasn’t going to hurt Danneel, wouldn’t say anything to anyone who wasn’t Genevieve. Jensen cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his seat.

Jared dropped the games he was holding onto the table and frowned, in that way that made his whole face wrinkle, and then he sat down on the edge of the coffee table. “What? What is it?”

“Danneel and I, our marriage is over,” Jensen said and felt surprised at the rush of relief that came with the words. It happened every time he said or thought it about his marriage ending. There was pain too, of course, he wanted Danneel in his life, he loved her, but there was a chance that wouldn’t happen, and it was a sharp punch to his gut, but he knew he was finally making the right choice.

“What? No way, come on, Jensen, you’re shitting me.”

Jensen shook his head. “I cheated. Hell, I never should have married her, I have intense feelings for someone else, real feelings -- but I was a coward. And I probably ruined my friendship with her forever,” Jensen said, tears pricking his eyes. It was the first time he’d said it out loud, that he’d lost Danneel with her wit, infectious smile and the positivity she brought to his life. He’d done so by being a coward.

“Okay, uh,” Jared stood up and walked away a bit then he turned around. “Okay, so you cheated, with the person you had feelings for? So what, I mean maybe you and Danneel can save your marriage anyway. People do that all the time, right?”

Jensen wiped at his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t want to save the marriage. I’m in love with the guy.”

“But you and Danneel are... Did you just say guy?”

Jensen smiled wryly, Jared’s eyes were wide, his jaw had dropped opened. It was too funny not to see the humor in it. Jensen felt amazed at how he could feel relief, self-hatred, love, fear, and humor all together. It was too much, really, hell at this point getting back on set and focusing all his energy at feeling Dean’s angst would feel like getting a break instead of the usual intense experience it was for him.

“A guy, uh, wow, okay.” Jared sat down on the couch then, next to Jensen. “You told Danneel?”

 

“Yeah. Last night. Everything, sort of happened all at once and I couldn’t lie anymore. Then today, at breakfast I realized I”m lying to you too, been lying to you, and I don’t want to, Jay. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need an apology. I, whoa, okay let me think for minute.”

Jensen nodded, closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He’d been doing nothing but thinking about how much he screwed everything up. How badly he’d wronged Danneel, and MIsha.

The thought of Misha sent Jensen back to the night Misha came over. Misha on Jensen couch, eyes hooded and dark, head back and neck exposed, hand on Jensen’s head, nails scrapping his scalp, pushing just enough. Moans of lust, of encouragement. The smile when the blow job was over, the neediness he felt when Misha grabbed him and tasted himself on Jensen’s tongue.

“You married Danneel, in love with someone else?”

Jared’s question pulled him out of the memory and back to the reality where he wasn’t an object of desire but a total asshole. He was someone lacking in sense and consideration. Not the man, the good person, his parents had raised him to be.

“I was falling in love, was in love -- not really sure when it happened.”

“Who is it?” Jared asked and Jensen could see Jared thinking, trying to figure out who the guy was.

“Misha. It’s Misha.” Jensen said and he knew he smiled, he could feel it, he wanted to stop his mouth from curving upward but he couldn’t. Not when he thought about Misha, it was impossible. Moments ago he’d probably been smiling next to Jared, while Jared processed the fact his best friend was a cheater, Jensen realized.

“Misha?” Jared said, then he stood up. “What the fuck?”

Jensen sighed.

Jared stood, fist clenched. “You cheated on Danneel, with Misha? You fucked Misha?”

“Not exactly,” Jensen muttered but he was pretty sure, Jared hadn’t heard him.

“Okay, look... I want to be a friend here. But are you out of your mind. And since when are you into guys? And what the fuck, you think you love Misha?”

“Why the hell does everyone think I only think I love him!” Jensen shouted, pissed immediately at the statement, just like he’d been when his mother had suggested it.

“Because you married Danneel, you chose her. Hell, man, when you and her got together I’d never seen you so happy. She’s perfect for you, man, she is. You’re just going to let her go for what? I mean I love Misha, I do, he’s a great guy. But you’ve seen him with the people he dates, they never last. They are like the latest distraction for him and then they are gone.”

Jensen shook his head. He’d seen it, he’d seen Misha with guys, girls, and they never lasted long. But then they’d all be at a party Misha threw, happy to see him again, behaving like the closest of friends. It was like Misha did them a favor. Jensen hated them all.

“Look, he... I don’t know what I’m going to do with Misha, but he hasn’t led me on, I’m the one...it’s on me.” Jensen sighed, thinking about what Misha had told him -- their one night together -- and remembering the way Misha had looked at him at the restaurant earlier. Misha had looked hurt and he’d looked hungry for Jensen. He’d been tense, and his voice when he’d stammered his goodbye had been broken and raw. He wasn’t a distraction for Misha, Jensen knew that...he just didn’t know what it was he was, or if he could do anything about it without feeling like a heel. It was Danneel. He couldn’t do anything about Misha, about how he felt about Misha, about how he hoped Misha felt about him until things were sorted out with Danneel.

“I think you need to work it out with Danneel,” Jared said and he sat down. “But, look, I’m just....” Jared frowned. “I’m shocked, disappointed, but I love you, man.”

Jensen let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding at Jared’s support. “I’m sorry.”

“Not me you owe the apologies too. I’ll support whatever you want, but I think you’ve messed up a pretty great thing with Danneel.”

Jensen nodded and let his head fall into his head. He groaned. “I hate it, she’s my best friend, you know besides you, I love her, I do. I think I was in love with her -- I think...” Jensen sighed. “I just...Misha blindsided me.”

Jared let out a grunt. “You really think Misha cares about you?”

Jensen smiled. “I know he does. But it doesn’t matter now, I can’t do anything until things are settled with Danneel. I hate myself for hurting her, Jay, I do.”

“You’re my friend but yeah man, you should hate yourself for hurting her.”

One of the best things about Jared was he always said it like he saw it. He’d say something you might not want to hear because he cared. Jared’s straight shooting was one of the reasons Jensen had been drawn to him, one of the reasons they’d become best friends. He felt relief at telling Jared the truth, it had unloaded a bit of weight that’d been crushing his spine. Jensen felt like there was less on him and that he wasn’t totally alone. He had someone to talk too now.

“I’ve got your back, Jensen,” Jared said as if hearing his thought.

 

  
_Misha_   


 

Misha, sat legs crossed, on the floor, hands on his thighs, eyes closed. The room was silent, except for Misha’s breathing, which was not measured and was not controlled. He took another deep breath in, filling his lungs, held it there and tried not to blow it out on the word Jensen...

 _Clear your mind, clear your mind,_ Misha said to himself. He tried to picture a blank white stone wall, nothing on it, trying not to see a six foot one man leaning against it, hips cocked with a cockier smile aimed straight at Misha. He opened his eyes and groaned.

His phone rang, as if in agreement with his decision he fucked for meditating for the foreseeable future. He stood up and grabbed the phone off his bureau where he’d placed it, didn’t look at the caller I.D. expecting it to be Vicky. “Hey, baby,” he said, the words carrying out on a sigh.

“Uh, hey,” Jensen said.

Misha felt his heart drop to his feet. He swayed in place where he was standing, eyes closing involuntarily and a crazy idea that if he stayed quiet Jensen would disappear.

“Shit. I shouldn’t have called, I know that but I did and then it connected and it was go through with it or hang up like twelve year old with their first crush and no idea how to behave...shit.”

“Are you saying I make you feel like a hormonal tween?” Misha asked, his voice glib, his stomach full of butterflies and wondering how he’d gone so far through life with a mouth so disconnected from his intellect.

There was a laugh, with enough bitterness in it that Misha had to bite his lip not to sigh into the phone and apologize -- for what he wasn’t even sure -- but he had an urge to apologize. For kissing Jensen the night of his bachelor party, for misreading Jensen’s reaction, for never owning up to his crush before Jensen married Danneel? For going over to Jensen’s apartment with condoms and lube, expecting to make love with a married man and love every damn second. Jensen’s screwed up, sure, Misha wasn’t innocent.

“Maybe, I sure as hell don’t know what to do.”

“Me either, Jensen.”

“So, uh, who did I think I was?”

“Uh?”

“Baby? I mean who?” Jensen’s voice was edgy.

Misha told himself not to read to much into it, so what if Jensen sounded jealous, he was the one trying to save his marriage. “Oh, Vicky. I should look at my caller I.D. but I never do. Prefer to accidentally call Bob Singer or Jim, Mom.”

Jensen laughed. “Right. I told Jared, today, after breakfast. He’s probably told Genevieve by now. That was my rational for dialing anyway, to tell you that.”

Misha nodded. “Right,” he said, Jared standing his full height and looking like a soulless Sam slamming into his visual cortex. “So, um, is Jared going to punch me for messing up your marriage?”

“No, No. I.... It’s all my fault.”

“Talked to Danneel again?”

“No. I think it’s going to be awhile. I’m actually... I’m actually avoiding calling my parents.”

Misha walked over to his bed to set down and found himself sitting in the same place Jensen had fallen drunkenly on. He licked his lips. “Maybe you won’t have... I mean maybe you should wait until you and Danneel figure out the next few moves?” he offered. He knew how important Jensen’s family was to him, how important his parents approval. Misha had met the Ackles’ only a few times, but he didn’t think they were capable of turning their backs on their son, anymore than Jensen could turn his back on those he loved and was loyal too. Apples did fall from apple tress, after all.

“I don’t know, I don’t...part of me wants to just come clean. I mean Mom, she knows I cheated, she knows how I feel about you -- she doesn’t know you are you.”

“Right,” Misha said, trying not to think about how Jensen felt about him, about the few words he’d heard Jensen say, about how they’d sounded like love but that didn’t change the fact it wasn’t enough. Not for them to be together. “Don’t rush it, I mean...” he thought: Danneel and you and may end up stronger than ever, why tell your parents.

“I feel like the lies have piled up too high, Mish, I don’t want to lie anymore.”

MIsha sighed. “Right,” he felt like he could hear his heart breaking in his ears, even if he knew rationally it was just his heart beating to fast. “Jensen, I...”

“Right, yeah, shit. I’m sorry.... I don’t know what I’m doing right now and I shouldn’t be bugging you. We’ll...”

“Let’s just keep it on set for now. You know professional, friendly, just...” _just until I can look at you and not feel shattered to a million pieces, and sound like a hormonal twelve year old myself._

“Oh. Okay, uh, bye.”

Misha gripped the phone, found out he didn’t have a voice and heard a click before he even started to try to say goodbye. He dropped the phone on the bed and fell backward and stared at his ceiling.

 

  
_Chapter Seven_

 _Misha_

 

The tree was blue, the sky was pink and the little people had big eyes, no noses and had been drawn green. There was angel, with bigger eyes -- actual blue -- and a trench coat of periwinkle, Misha thought. Right under him was a giant green man with a mop of purple hair and next to him, closest to the angel was another green man, with darker green eyes and a dark periwinkle jacket. On the page scrawled in uneven letters in brown was the words, _I love you Cas-ell_. In the envelope was also a piece of paper with even, adult print that said: _My daughter said her allowance for this week should go to Random Acts -- so it is. I hope it’s true that every little cent counts. Rosie Fallon and her mommy._

“That sweet, how much?”

Misha jumped at Jared’s voice. He was so focused on the artistic genius of Rose Fallon, he hadn’t even heard anyone come up behind him. It wasn’t the first day since the holiday’s. Jared, Jensen and the crew had been working for almost a full week. But it was Misha’s first day back and he was looking at a full day of shooting Castiel scenes back to back to back.

Every one of his scenes with Jensen.

Two with Jensen, Jared and Jim, but three more with Jensen alone. Intense scenes with him having to walk into Jensen’s personal space and touched on subjects and say words that’d been elephants during the season. Misha was positive he was going to crack, even while he told himself he wouldn’t, so he’d dove into his bag of fan mail as a distraction. He pulled out the check that had been placed in the envelope with the love letter from the little girl. His eye brows raised, “Rosie Fallon, it seems gets one hell of a good allowance. Twenty-five dollars.”

“Damn,” Jared said. “Lucky kid.”

Misha folded the check and pushed it into his jeans pocket to deal with later, to make sure it made it to the Random Acts account, along with the envelope to make sure his assistant at least sent out a thank you note with an autographed photo, despite one not being requested, it was deserved.

“So,” Jared said, as Misha made himself stand up and face him. Jared had his hands in his pockets and was stooping down a bit, like he was trying to seem as friendly as possible. Misha inhaled a breath as quietly as he could, not wanting Jared to see his nerves.

“So?” he asked, playing dumb.

“Jensen,” Jared said.

Misha tried to keep his face neutral, his body neutral, but he couldn’t; his eyes sought out Jensen on the set, where he was talking with Bob Singer, looking at the set, probably discussing where the camera would be, how it would move -- director type things that Jensen never could keep his hand out of completely. It wasn’t in him. Misha smiled as he watched Jensen point toward Bobby’s staircase, animately talking to Bob.

“Right, so, Jensen,” Jared repeated with a bit more force in his voice.

Misha jumped inside his skin for a second time and turned back so he was looking at Jared. “What about him?” he asked, suddenly feeling rankled. His defenses went up.

“What the fuck?” Jared asked, sounding both confused and protective, as he glanced over toward Jensen and Bob for a second. “He’s turning his life upside down, man -- about you. So I want to know...”

“He’s making his own choices,” Misha bit out.

“Danneel has gone completely silent. I tried calling her a few times and nothing.”

Misha sighed. “I’m sure she just needs time, wouldn’t you?”

“And if he and she decide to work it out, what are you going to do?”

Misha closed his eyes, he didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone. Jared, Vicky, himself. He’d been avoiding it with himself since the moment in Jensen and Danneel’s bedroom when Jensen said he couldn’t cheat on her. He knew the answer, and it felt like a sad, biter truth. “Nothing. I’m going to go back to doing nothing about Jensen, just like I was before he came onto me at my Christmas party.”

“Nothing? If you’d been doing nothing why did he come on to you?”

Misha rolled his eyes. “Look, Jared, I...” he licked his lips. “It’s moot. He’s made it clear he has to put Danneel first. Which frankly, I already knew, it’s just he had a weak moment and so did I and it made the shit hit the fan. But I’m not going to do anything to make it worse. Got it.”

Jared pursed his lips, nodded. “Yeah, right, I -- he’s my bro, you know?”

Misha nodded. “I know. I get it. He’s lucky he has you watching his back.”

“Misha, Jared, they need you in wardrobe, then make up, now!” Ally, one of the production assistants shouted, grabbing them both by one of their elbows and pulling.

 

~~

Castiel shoves Dean roughly against Bobby Singer’s front door, his back to the staircase and closes the space between him and the hunter. When he’s only a breath away from Dean, he locks gazes and says, “What do I need to say for you understand that I do not wish for things to be the way they are.”

Dean shoves him back in response, Castiel doesn’t move an inch, Dean rolls his eyes at himself and spits out, as if he hadn’t just tried to move an immovable object, “Talk to me. Tell me what crazy dick move you plan to make. Tell me why you are making them. Talk to me about this all-out win or lose war you are in.”

Castiel sighs. “I have told you.”

“Right. Raphael is still mad at Daddy and wants big brother Mikey back and Lucifer dead. What you haven’t told me is how he plans to get them out of the cage. We locked it. It’s over. We won.”

“Raphael has followers, he has knowledge...” Castiel sighs, defeated. “It is not unlikely he may be involved with what you are facing of late.”

“Eve. Raphael may have something to do with Eve?”

“To distract me, perhaps. He knows I care for Humanity, that I want a Heaven that does not look down upon Earth but that looks over Earth. That I believe I was brought back to carry on what I have learned about free will. He thinks it can distract me. Monsters here bring me down here and make it so he can find a way to bring about the paradise where free-will is no longer viable for anyone, angel and human alike.” Castiel inhales sharply. It’s probably the most he’s said in well over two years.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters.

“You must see then why I Dean I cannot help you. I cannot come every time you or Sam call. I cannot be your friend while I am trying to ensure Raphael does not bring about the Apocalypse after all we have been through.

“We can’t face Eve without knowing we have back up, Cas, we....” Dean pauses, leans against the door behind him for a moment and looks away, a long pause and a beat then their eyes are locked again. Dean’s tongue licks his lips. “I need to know you have my back.”

Castiel stares, then he shakes his head. “What I have is faith. In you.”

Dean eyes widen, there is a flutter of wings and he’s alone.

~~

  
_Jensen_   


 

Eight takes. Eight takes. Four for Misha’s coverage, four for his. Jensen entered his trailer as quickly he could when Bob said they were done. But it wasn’t for the day. There was one more Castiel and Dean scene left, then the final Bobby, Sam, Dean, Castiel scene. The one with the full cast would be a relief, because the next scene was just more of them fighting, more of Castiel in Dean’s personal bubble, more of Dean hurt but mostly selfish of the angel’s time trying to get through to Castiel where Dean wanted his attention.

It was more of Misha using that voice, more of Misha’s scent wafting over him, all woodsy and spicy, more of looking him in the eye unable to look away. And that was them, that had probably been always them and not Dean and Castiel at all.

It was also more of Jensen feeling aroused, wanting and not being able to touch, not being able to do a damn thing -- and it’d always felt so hard before, been so difficult before, making his fist clench during scenes -- something he could always play off as Dean being surly and defiant. But it was him hard, wanting and trying to curb away his arousal. Now, now that he’d tasted, now that he knew the attraction went both ways, now that he’d turned his world completely upside down by finally admitting the truth. Pretending now, not acting now, it was a million times harder.

He and Misha hadn’t said one word to each other all day that hadn’t been scripted. They were keeping to their word, professional, letting the dust settle, not doing anything to hurt the show. Never do anything to hurt the show -- it was one of the best professional experiences of both their careers. Jensen sighed, leaned back and tried to simply ignore the fact he was half-hard. He couldn’t do anything about it, he couldn’t do what he wanted to do about it.

 

He wanted to get up, walk past Jared’s trailer and the catering table and find Misha’s trailer on the other side of the set and walk in and take. Take what he wanted. But he couldn’t. He didn’t deserve Misha, for one thing, and he couldn’t do anything when he was still legally married. He hadn’t heard from Danneel yet, he hadn’t tried to call her either. He was waiting on her, waiting for to make her move because he owed her having the ball completely in her court. He just hoped she’d make a decision soon, let him know how she wanted to go forward. He’d give her anything she wanted except their marriage -- that he couldn’t give her which was the problem wasn’t it?

His trailer door opened. He cracked open one eye and saw it was Jared, looking oddly small as he walked in. Jensen sat up, unhinged by the contriteness he read in his best friend’s body language. “Uh, Jay, what is it?”

“Just thought, I should tell you I pretty much told Misha not to do anything to mess things up more for you.”

“You...” Jensen sputtered out, “You did what?”

“I let him know not to do anything, okay.”

Jensen stood up, angry, “Why would you do that, I told you he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Fucking around with a married man is...”

“I did that, I made the move.”

Jared sighed. “Fine, you’re not innocent, but he’s not either and I don’t want him messing things up more. If Danneel decides to try to work it out with you...”

Jensen grabbed Jared by his biceps, digging into the muscle with his fingers, forcing him to look right at him. “Let me make this clear. I am divorcing Danneel, that is what is happening because I don’t love her like that and she deserves a man who does. That is happening, all I am hoping for is maybe, someday, she’ll be able to look at me as a friend again.”

“Jensen, come on...”

“Jared, yes. You said you’d have my back. This is me telling you, I’m not going to try to save the marriage. What I want to save with her is friendship. You don’t have to like it, or even understand it but will accept it. Cause if not, we can’t talk about this, okay?” He let go of him and folded his body back down on the couch, thinking at least now he wasn’t half-hard, he was just feeling like no-one understood him, or would ever accept that he did know what was right for him -- it was the price he paid for being afraid to act.

 

Minutes ticked by, then he felt Jared’s weight jostle the couch. “Okay. Divorce. Got it, no more trying to get you to work it out with her. Full disclosure: both Gen and I have tried to contact her, but she’s not answering.”

“I’m not surprised, but if she does, just be there for her, okay?”

“Of course, man, of course.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“So, uh, how was doing that scene?”

Jensen groaned.

Jared patted him on the leg. “Sorry, man.”

  
_Misha_   


Misha still felt Jensen’s chest against his palms, they’d filmed the scene hours ago, had another scene where they were standing less than an inch apart but they hadn’t touched. Hadn’t laid hands on each other, the last two scenes of the day they’d been a room apart. But there had been lines, had been looks, but it was the first scene that was still under Misha’s skin. He felt Jensen’s chest against his palms, felt Jensen’s palms on his own.

He was in his car, trying to stop shaking; he felt like someone going through withdrawal -- not that he a had a clue what it was like, but it had to be like this. Shaking with need for something, for something you barely knew, had barely touched -- he’d only tasted Jensen once. It hadn’t been enough. Jensen Ackles more dangerous than crack, Misha thought, wryly smiling at himself.

He leaned back in the seat, inhaling a breath to hold it, when Jensen walked in front of the car, stopped and looked right at him. The breath lodged in his throat instead of going into his lungs, and Misha gripped the steering wheel and didn’t dare look away. Jensen was in his own clothes, and Misha thought he looked more tired now than he had as Dean earlier in the day, who’d been made up by the makeup people too look like a man running on no sleep. Jensen always joked they didn’t need to do the make up this late in the season -- Misha found himself agreeing, seeing Jensen’s dark eye circles.

Jensen had stopped mid-stride, now he stepped forward, paused again, hand on the back of his neck and Misha let out the breathe and wished. Only he didn’t know if he was wishing for Jensen to walk away or come up to the window.

Jensen came up to the window, and tapped on the glass. Misha rolled it down and looked out, Jensen was stooping down to look at him, hand still on the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “Look, I just wanted to apologize about Jared, he means well.”

Misha shrugged. “I expected it to happen. Pissed me off more than I thought it would, but yeah, I’m glad you have someone looking out for you.”

Jensen gave a small smile. “You don’t deserve any grief, man. If I hadn’t...”

“Yeah, well you did,” Misha said, thinking thank god you did. “It’s good. I don’t...I’m not sorry it came out.”

Jensen’s smile widened. “Me either, despite everything else.”

Misha nodded back, thinking it was amazing how a moment could feel both awkward and easy. They were okay with each other, they more than okay with each other, but they’d made a choice to stay way. Well, Jensen had, Misha was going to honor it. If Jensen would actually stay away.

“You still talking to Vicky?”

“Always.”

Jensen nodded. “Just, I have Jared acting like my guard dog, I want to know you have...”

“I’m protected by an overprotective loon, no worries,” Misha said, thinking about Vicky when she was angry on the behalf of another. She was a force that could make any man cry. “She’s not a mom but she’s got that whole mama bear thing.”

Jensen nodded and dropped his hand from his neck. “Yeah, I guess, I should...”

“Yeah.”

They stayed there, Misha didn’t know how long but it felt like a full minute, maybe more, just looking at the other one, words on their tongues that neither one of them dare d speak.

“See you, next week, Mish...” Jensen said, a bit too quickly before he took off, not waiting for Misha to say goodbye.

Misha watched Jensen walk away, all masculine grace in strides that were a bit longer than usual. Misha started his car and he drove home five miles too fast.

 

  
_Chapter Eight_

 _Jensen_

 

Jensen had just bit into an apple when the phone rang. His cell phone vibrated on the counter, Danneel’s ring tone filling the air. He finished his bite, reached for the phone and answered. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Danneel said, her voice flat and he heard rustling of clothes, pictured her moving in her seat; she could stand still but she preferred to be moving. “It’s been two weeks, and... I can’t put off talking to you. And since I’m here and you're there, the phone seemed best.”

Jensen had his lips pressed together - he nodded, then remembered he had to speak for her to know his reaction. “I agree,” he said, hating how formal he sounded, like he was talking to a lawyer. It struck him he was probably lucky he wasn’t talking to a lawyer, that Danneel had called him herself.

“I’ve been talking to my friends.”

Jensen crossed the kitchen, waiting for Danneel to continue and say whatever it was had been on her mind since he’d told her everything.

“I only told my mother and Elisabeth everything, they both reminded me of something I’d forgotten -- I don’t know why they remembered. People remember things for whatever reason, I guess God has his reasons.”

God. They believed in God in the same way, had been raised the same way in their religion, had grown up and found their own interpretations of the words in the Bible, and what they felt was right and wrong in the world. They’d started going to church together, no fuss, no muss the first Sunday after they’d gotten together. Jensen closed his eyes, remembering how easy things always had been with her, how great of a friend she’d always been. “What did they remember?”

“I was worried about your reaction to our first kiss, to our first time...” Danneel trailed off.

Jensen frowned. Thinking back, their first time had followed their first kiss. It’d been the easiest and most amazing hook up in his life -- until Misha, his mind reminded him, thinking of his brief moments of being skin to skin with Misha. But the memory of him and Danneel, it was still beautiful to him. “You were?”

“I remember, we started hanging out more and more after filming Ten Inch -- whenever you were in Los Angeles, we’d either hang out at your apartment or mine. Watching movies, going on hikes, playing golf or tennis. We’d laugh, we’d tease. We were watching a movie that night, I don’t even remember what movie it was but I remember we both were laughing at something, then we stopped and we were nose to nose on the couch and I looked into your eyes, took in your crows' feet, your smile, and I kissed you.”

Jensen smiled at the memory. “I remember.”

“When we broke apart, you looked at me and stammered, ‘We can do this, we get to do this?’”

“I don’t remember, I just remember being a bit in shock about how great it felt, how much I knew I already loved you, the idea it could be more -- it was kind of cool.”

“I thought so too. We kissed more, than I started to unbuckle your belt and you stopped me, and said ‘We’re friends, I don’t want to hurt that.’ I was too far gone in lust to worry about that, I knew what I wanted, I had found what I needed and I pushed ahead.”

“You don’t back down, I love that about you,” Jensen said, then cringed at his use of the term _love_. He owed her more than carelessly throwing that word around.

“For weeks, you kept saying things like 'I can’t believe I’m sleeping with one of my best friends'.”

Jensen nodded to himself again, embarrassed, really, that he was such a dork. “I remember that.”

“It was like when we were filming Ten Inch, I couldn’t get you to shut up about how we were getting to work together. But it had me worried, the first weeks, the first six months of our relationship because you kept calling us friends. You didn’t start thinking of me as your girlfriend until I made us discuss what we were doing. And I worried about that for a bit, but then we became us and it was amazing and I forgot I was ever worried at all.”

“Until now?” Jensen asked, wondering where she was going with this.

“Yeah. You fell in love with me because I was falling in love with you, Jensen. I was okay with that, because I... I thought it was mutual, two friends, getting closer to their thirties, both wanting the relationship their parents have, that forever, that family -- to add to their family. We have the same views on God, politics, similar hobbies. It was so perfect...” Danneel’s voice broke, caught, breaking from the flat conversational -- almost narrative tone she’d had. “Fuck, Jensen, we were perfect, I’m trying to rationalize here, see where I missed the fact you weren’t as crazy in love with me as I was with you.”

“Dani,” he said, a low whisper into the phone. “I...”

“You're so reserved, you know, I just always thought underneath that you were doing cartwheels too.” She was crying now, not hiding it, giving up the pretext. “When you told me about Misha, when you mentioned Misha your face lit up -- it lit up in this way I’ve never seen before. And you were trying not to, for me, I know that -- so just how high is the wattage when you aren’t trying to hold it back?”

Jensen bit his lip to stop himself from trying to say something to Danneel, trying to say something to make her feel better. There were no words.

“I don’t know why you kept the sexuality stuff inside, that’s your issue, I don’t know why we didn’t get to work -- but when you didn’t ask me to stay, followed by two weeks of you not once trying to contact me, I knew we were over. I’ve been talking to friends, and Sophia gave me her attorney’s number. I’m going to call him soon.”

“Okay.”

“Are, are you going to be -- are you with Misha?”

Jensen felt sick and relieved. He felt his heart flip at her last question. He could be with Misha but he was destroying Danneel; her voice kept breaking because once she started to cry she couldn’t stop. All the walls of rationale she’d built had come crumbling down.

“No. I decided not to make any decisions there until we settle things.”

Danneel made a noise and he heard her moving, then she spoke, her voice tiny. “Okay, I like that -- sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I’ll call you once I have paperwork ready to send to you. I’ll probably have it sent to the apartment in Vancouver, you won’t be done filming the season yet...” Her voice cracked a few times but she was trying to go back to the flat tone she’d started with.

“Okay. Danneel, I do...I’m sorry, I hope maybe someday?”

“Maybe someday, but not soon, not anytime soon at all, Jensen.”

“Yeah,” Jensen said and he felt like a piece of him had been ripped away, too fast and way too soon. The dial tone rang in his ear and he closed his phone.

 

  
_Misha_   


 

“How many times have you masturbated to the memory of that blow job, this week?” was the first thing Misha heard when he picked up his phone. He’d just finished a jog around the block, the phone starting to vibrate in his pocket as he came up upon his door.

“Why the hell do I ever tell you anything about my sex life? I don’t think other guys tell their best girlfriends things about their sex life. Maybe I should do a twitter poll about this? We are abnormal, I should prove it?”

“You tell me because for three years of high school you thought I’d be your only sex life and now you're bragging about your conquests, or as of late -- no conquests. I really think you should get laid. How many was it, three, four?”

“Zero. And I’m not going to go out and get laid,” Misha said.

“Zero?” Vicky repeated into his ear. “Zero? Are you lying to me? No, you can’t lie to me. What’s up - new fodder?Did he come to his senses and meet you in your trailer between takes?”

“No, he didn’t...nothing’s happened.”

“So...oh, wait. You two had one of those intense Dean and Castiel scenes, didn’t you. With all the sexual undertones and the fuck me eyes and lip licking?”

Misha was now in his kitchen and he grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from his sink. “Yeah,” he admitted. “There I go again, telling you things you will use against me. Did you hypnotize me once to make this happen? You know I have a big mouth so it’d be an easy thing to suggest, always tell Vicky everything. This is what happened, right?”

“Stop with the ridiculous conspiracy theories. You share because we are basically one crazy person and if you didn’t and I didn’t we wouldn’t feel whole.”

“Okay, so are you still with that girl with the belly button ring, who likes to eat cherries out of your navel?”

“No. Got bored. With these two guys now. Much more fun, they finish each other's sentences. I think they're madly in love but they like having a female in the middle -- think there might have been a break up with another female. Haven’t gotten them talking yet, not that I really mind. So I’m satisfied. Did you get to slam him against walls again? Oh, wow, I never asked how crazy filming that scene must have made you.”

“And you never will, I’m not talking about these things.”

“We already are,” Vicky pointed out. “Fine, you're spending your time jogging, meditating, reading your scripts for your one or two days of work and probably burying your head into Random Acts; when you aren’t constructing little porny fantasies about Jensen and his blow job lips...”

Misha snorted water up his nose. All she had to do was mention Jensen and blow job and he was fucked -- or not -- he’d probably be living off the memory of that moment until he was dying of old age, next to Vicky snickering about it in a nursing home. “Jesus, fuck, Vicky, I snorted water up my nose!” he shouted into the phone between a few coughs.

He had to move the phone away from his ear as Vicky cackled.

“I hate you,” he muttered into the phone, then hopped onto the kitchen counter.

“No, you don’t. Okay, more seriously, how are you?”

“Okay. Jared played loyal guard dog, Jensen and I had intense scenes the Castiel/Dean lovers are going to have fangasms about. He and I had an okay talk.”

“An okay talk?”

“He wanted to apologize about Jared.”

“Hmm. Called you to tell you he told Jared, apologizes for Jared being Jared. Sounds like making up excuses to talk to you. You sure he’s planning to work it out with Danielle?”

“Danneel. And I...I’m pretty sure,” Misha sighed. He’d been wondering and every time he saw Jensen he wondered more if maybe he had a chance with him, after all. But he couldn’t allow his hopes to rise to high, he hurt enough already.

“Danneel is a stupid name by the way,” Vicky said.

“Is not.”

“Too nice for your own good and yeah, okay, it’s really kind of cool.”

“I can’t think he’s not, because if he is going to work it out... I couldn’t take it.”

“You aren’t handling it now, you aren’t your usual sparkling self.”

“I know.”

“If you think there is no chance, move on. Not like you couldn’t find someone to forget with.”

Misha shook his head. “I don’t want to forget with some warm body.”

“I think it should be a girl. Breasts, curves, warmth, all nice and soft.”

“Find yourself a girl,” he whined.

“She can be dirty blonde with green eyes. He has freckles, right? I bet you could find that.”

“Have you been reading fanfic?”

“Have you? Really, do they write that? Cas with someone who looks like Dean? Hee...”

“You’re my other half, I’m not whole without you.”

“Aww Misha, you’re so sweet -- are you laughing?”

Misha rolled his eyes. “I’m smiling, I feel absurd. If this was some other relationship that’d been waylaid...”

“You two never had a relationship, Misha.”

Misha kicked the cupboard under him with his foot, hard, too hard and he looked up at the ceiling and spotted a water stain – crap, had that always been there? He didn’t want to think about the fact he was mourning something he had never had, and that he was hoping despite knowing better that maybe it could happen. “Can we change the subject? How is your latest book going? Are you using me to procrastinate?”

“I do think I need you to bounce ideas off of,” she muttered. “Fine, we'll turn to my issues. Okay, here is the thing with this book...”

 

Chapter Nine

 _Jensen_

 

Jensen’s pulse was throbbing in his temples, he could feel his heart in his chest, pounding too fast. He was sitting in his parents’ living room, on a chair he’d pulled into front of the couch so he could look them in the eye when he told them.

When he told them all the things he’d never said before. When he told them that he was getting a divorce.

He licked his lips. His throat was dry, he should have taken his mom up on the tea she’d offered and he’d asked her not to make. It would have bought some time, it would’ve meant he’d something to do while he searched for the words to tell them.

Alan Ackles cleared his throat. “Jensen, why are you here?” his father had already asked the question. It was the third or fourth time, Jensen had lost count. He swallowed and said what he’d said every other time.

“I’ve got to tell you and mom something. It -- it’s not something to say over the phone, so I flew out.”

He’d opened his cell phone again, after hanging up with Danneel and found himself calling his travel agent instead of his parents. It wouldn’t have been right to lay all this new information, the bad news, onto them over the phone. He had to say it in person. The truth was, Jensen needed to see their faces, their eyes. He had know if they’d accept him. Rationality said they would; they were supportive, good parents. He’d been lucky that way his entire life and he knew it. Maybe that was the problem. They’d been great and he’d been a pretty normal kid never getting into much trouble. He’d never rocked the status quo and they never had either.

He was about to, if he could just figure out how to start the conversation.

“Jensen, sweetheart, is this about what we discussed over Christmas?”

His mother’s voice was soft, calming and she was giving him his opening and he’d never loved her more.

“Yeah.”

“What? What did you two discuss? Is this about why you and Danneel left early?” Alan asked. He looked and sounded concerned. Jensen felt less calm in the face of his father’s worry.

“Yeah,” he managed to say and took a breath. When he exhaled he’d planned to start talking but words were still failing him.

“Shall I start?” his mother asked.

“Please,” Jensen said hating the pleading tone of his voice.

“Before he and Danneel left, Jensen confided in me that he has cheated on her. He told me he loves this person but he of course feels awful about what he has done to Danneel.”

“Jensen?” his dad asked and Jensen forced himself to keep eye contact. But he saw the question, the denial, the disappointment in his father’s eyes. “This is true?”

“Yes,” Jensen said.

“I take it you told Danneel?” Donna asked.

“The second we got home,” Jensen said. “She left and I just talked to her today, she’s going to file for divorce. It’s...hell I’m not sure if it’s what she wants but it’s for the best for her. And I, I want it.”

“For this other person?” Donna asked.

Jensen had to think about it. Did he want the divorce so he could be with Misha? Yes, no, he was sure that he wasn’t going to rush into anything with Misha. For a few reasons, but the biggest one was Danneel -- at least for now. “No and yes. I can’t love Danneel like she deserves, I wasn’t fully in the relationship and I just took too long to admit it. Falling for...” He cleared his throat, it wasn’t the time yet to say Misha’s name. “Falling for someone else was just the catalyze, it helped me realize.”

Alan leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes for moment. Jensen knew that movement: it was his dad’s ‘disappointed and angry with my kid’ look and motion. Jensen bit the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t going to cry, he couldn’t if he was going to get through all of this.

“Did you know any of this when you married Danneel? Jensen, you are married, it isn’t something that one should end lightly. Are you sure?” Alan asked when he sat up straight again and pinned Jensen with his gaze.

“Yes, I knew before the wedding, I just -- kept repressing like I have been for a long time,” Jensen answered and knew he had to tell them rest now.

“Repressing?” Donna asked leaning forward. “Jensen?”

“There is more to this than not loving Danneel the way she deserves, and falling for someone else. I...this is harder than I thought it’d be and I thought it’d be plenty hard,” Jensen said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, refusing to think about the fact that tears hit his skin.

“Jensen you can tell us anything?” Alan and Donna said in unison.

“I just want you to be sure letting Danneel go won’t be a mistake, Jensen,” Alan added.

Jensen nodded. “Marrying her was the mistake, I am trying to make things right now. Too late, I think. Look, uh, I’m just going to tell you the name of who I am in love with.” Jensen smiled a bit as he thought about Misha and that wave of strong emotion gave him the push he needed. “I’ve fallen for Misha Collins, pretty hard.”

Silence followed, but Jensen could see both of his parents thinking and the precise moment it clicked for them both him. His mother’s eyes widened and his father’s jaw dropped.

“Your male co-star, Misha, not one of the female Mishas running about...” Alan said more than he asked.

Jensen nodded.

Alan nodded back.

Donna stood up. “I need to go make tea,” she announced and left the room.

Jensen felt ripped to shreds in that one moment, but tried to tell himself it was just an initial reaction, it didn’t mean anything, not really. She hadn’t said anything yet, after all. He couldn’t, shouldn’t...

Fuck she hated him.

“She needs to think, making tea and drinking it helps her think,” Alan said, leaving forward in his seat. “Is Misha the first, uh, man?”

Jensen was looking at the archway his mother had walked through, to get to the kitchen, and he’d heard his father’s explanation of her behavior without fully processing it. The question though caught his attention.

He looked at his dad and felt relief that all he saw there was a look of confusion and body language that said Alan wanted to listen. He had his elbows on his knees, leaning forward in his seat. Jensen let out the breath he’d been holding in.

“No. I, uh, I’ve like guys since, uh forever really. I just... I repressed it, because I thought it was wrong for a really long time, then when I realized it wasn’t wrong I experimented a bit when I first went out to L.A. but I never really met the right guy. And a huge reason I’ve never really dealt with it was fear. I was so afraid you and mom might not accept it. Josh too...when I was a teenager he used to say the most homophobic bullshit, I mean I know he’s outgrown that crap but...”

“You know your mother and I are not homophobic, Jensen, why would you think for a moment that...”

“It wasn’t in your house, it was speculative. I mean until Mackenzie’s friend Violet came out did you even have anyone in your life, who you knew closely, who was gay?”

“I’ve met and known quite a few actors...”

“Dad it’s one thing to be okay with it in the business, but your own son, you can’t tell me you aren’t thrown,” Jensen said and waited.

Alan Ackles sighed and leaned back with is eyes closed again. Jensen wondered if he counted to ten or twenty when he did it.

“I am thrown, I’m very thrown. I’m thrown that you married Danneel with doubts, I thought I raised you better than to cheat on your wife -- and I do not think divorce should be taken lightly. And just how sure are you that you love Misha, and what are Misha’s feelings and is he to blame for any of this?”

Literally, Jensen felt like ripping heads whenever someone questioned his feelings for Misha. It pissed him off but he counted to ten before he answered his father. “I hate myself for what I did to Danneel. Misha, Misha feels something for me, I’m pretty sure it’s love but I can’t let myself...” Jensen trailed off, thinking about Misha, his laugh, his touch and he swallowed hard. “I can’t think about it right now because, I just, I owe Danneel that, don’t I?”

“Did he pursue you despite your marriage?”

“No. No, he didn’t. He’s not perfect Dad, he did kiss me before the wedding but he hid his feelings from me and told me it was a joke. I...I got drunk at a party of his, Danneel was still in L.A. at the time, and I, I hit on him. I was drunk, I was jealous of the people he was flirting with and I let all the things I’d been denying and repressing about him rear up and I hit on him. And afterward, it’d rattled him enough he told me how he felt.”

Alan pursed his lips. “And here we are,” he said, finally and he stood up. “Stand up, Jensen.”

Jensen stood up, heart pounding, licked his lips in a nervous habit but before he could get himself too freaked out about what might be coming his father was hugging him.

Jensen fell into the hug, gripped on tightly and rolled his eyes at himself.

“I am disappointed but that will fade, I’m not angry, I am proud you are facing your responsibilities head on -- even if it is a bit late on a some fronts. And I’m sorry for whatever things that happened in our home while you were growing up that made you think you had to keep the fact you are -- bisexual, I’m taking it -- from us and from what I’m sensing from yourself.”

Jensen nodded against his father’s shoulder, to confirm the bisexuality, to let him know he was hearing it.

“I still have some questions,” Alan added, squeezing once more, than letting go but keeping his right hand on Jensen’s shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” Jensen said, but his heart was pounding less, his throat felt less dry. Nothing was going to change between him and his dad, why he’d been afraid seemed silly but how could he have not been, he thought at same time.

“What I’m understanding is, you have been denying, repressing, only experimenting a bit, and at some point I’m thinking you made a choice to only focus on being with woman?”

Jensen nodded, thrilled that his dad was so intuitive, it helped to short cut a lot, he didn’t have to spell every fact out. His dad knew him, his dad loved him, he let himself smile at the thought. “I did, long before I started dating Danneel.”

“What happened that made everything crack. I thought you and Danneel had a very strong relationship, Jensen. This is what confuses me the most, you two were close friends and when you got together your mother and I couldn’t have been happier. We foresaw a beautiful marriage.”

Jensen bent his head down, his right hand flew to the back of his neck. “I love her, Dad, I do. I think, I was in love with her, maybe a bit, mostly it was just -- she was Dani, she was a best friend, someone who could call me on my shit and someone with whom I had so much in common in, but was always full of surprises. We were friends and when we started to date too -- I kept thinking about you and mom, friends and more...and I was hitting thirty and she was close too. We both wanted families, we went to the same church. It felt right because of the facts, and how great she is. She is great, you know?”

Alan nodded.

“Then I met Misha, and he threw me for an acting loop, then a personal loop. He was random in all the best ways. He was gorgeous, I couldn’t not notice that, I tried. At first I told myself it was just lust, and it would fade. But it hasn’t. And now i know him, who he is behind the crazy random layer he shows the fans. I know his heart, I know that the charity work he does is probably more important to him than his acting. It’s like the fact he has power of his fans, to do something good has helped him find his real calling. He’d thought of going into politics, you know, but found it too cynical I think. He’s not cynical. Not really... I just...he was the right guy and I couldn’t deny it anymore. Only, I got married before it hit the fan and it was too late, and I wasn’t going to act on it. Or I thought I wasn’t. I think no matter what, getting drunk at that party or in some other way I was going to break when it came to him. I love him, Dad.”

Alan squeezed Jensen’s shoulder. “I’m getting that.. but you plan to stay away from him because of Danneel?”

“I just, feel like I should wait until paperwork is signed, finalized. I owe her that, Dad.”

Alan nodded. “You’re a good man, you know that.”

Jensen shook his head. “I feel like a heel.”

“Good men always do,” Alan laughed. “Now, I think we have given your mother enough time. I’m going to go call your brother and your sister to invite them to dinner. They should hear this too.”

Jensen blanched.

“Your mother and I will be there for back up, go into the kitchen, kiddo.”

Jensen nodded; his throat went dry again but he walked into the kitchen with is head high. He felt like most of the weight had been ripped off his shoulders by the conversation with his dad.

Donna was sitting at the kitchen table, in the same place she’d been when they’d talked at Christmas, sipping a steaming cup of tea. There was a cup at his place at the table. Jensen sat down, and took the cup between both palms, for something to do with his hands.

“Todd Larsen,” Donna said.

Jensen looked up from the tea, started.

“Something happened between the two of you, sophomore year of high school, didn’t it?”

Jensen nodded, shock keeping him quiet.

“I always suspected, but then you two didn’t talk for a couple weeks and things went back to, you two just being teenaged boys. I thought maybe what I was suspecting was wrong, that it was some other thing, maybe you two fought over a girl after all. Tell me what really happened?”

Jensen licked his lips. “We --well, we made out for a bit, everyday after baseball practice, before you picked me up at his place. It was --” Jensen blushed remembering everything again. “It was nice and I was happy and didn’t even think about it being weird because it wasn’t, with him. He wanted to do it too.”   
Donna smiled, her hand come up and touched Jensen’s forearm, it helped him to go on.

“I don’t remember the specifics, but there were some hate crimes, homophobic ones, going on in town, in Dallas... the Church was giving the hate the sin try to save the sinner speeches. Josh and his buddies were saying things and I got scared I was wrong, I would be letting you and dad down...and I broke it off.”

“Oh, Jensen...”

Jensen shrugged. “I was wrong. Todd was pissed but then he just forgave me, started to act like it never happened and I followed his lead because I wanted to be friends, but I missed, I missed what we had for that month or so.”

“I ran into him a few months ago, you know,” Donna said, squeezing Jensen’s arm. “He was with his partner, very handsome young man, Todd was more handsome. It was at the grocery store, the check out line, I was picking up the TV Guide and he said hello, told me who he was... I would never have guessed, he was such a scrawny kid, but then again so were you. Anyway he mentioned that they never buy that TV Guide, but he had to pick up the one with you on the cover. He asked how you were, introduced to me to his partner -- called him his husband. It was a nice little chat, that night I remembered thinking you and he might’ve been more than friends. Then I forgot again by morning. The memory is odd that way. He lives in town, you should look him up sometime.”

“I think I will,” Jensen said, finding that he meant it. “I kind of feel like I owe him an apology.”

Donna laughed. “You always have had such a guilty conscience. Always. Josh and Mackenzie would do something and they could hold out for weeks or forever -- I’m sure there are things those two still haven’t copped too -- but you, three days maximum for most things. I find it a miracle you never talked to us about your feelings for men. But I guess it was a different type of problem. I really wish you’d talked to us.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, at himself. “Yeah, it might have saved me a lot of hassle. I’m sorry, Mom.”

“You don’t owe me an apology. How is Danneel?” Donna asked.

Jensen didn’t cower from her point. “She’s mad, upset, I really broke her heart, Mom. I’m not saying that to be vain, she just, she was hundred percent in our relationship and I wasn’t -- I never was, even when I thought I was.”

“I was eavesdropping a bit, so I heard what you told your father about Misha. Never quite heard that tone before, close but not that tone. You really love him, I’m sorry I asked if you were sure.”

Jensen shook his head. “It pissed me off everytime someone says it, but hell I married Danneel, until recently I’ve never said even to myself I like men too. I get it, just...yeah I love him.”

“Does he know?”

Jensen let go of the teacup and started to fiddle with the plastic flower arrangement in the middle of the table. “I don’t know, I don’t think so, I... I feel I owe it to Danneel to wait until there is signed paperwork separating us from each other. I’ve hurt so much, I don’t think it’d be right...”

“I agree, but I also don’t think you should be punishing yourself. Are you?”

Jensen looked up then, looked into his mother’s green eyes and shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly punish myself enough, Mom, don’t you think.”

“Oh, Jensen,” she said, grabbed his hand and stood up, Jensen let her pull him with her and she hugged him tight. Jensen closed his eyes, felt tears burn the edges as they closed and just let his mom hold him until they had to let go, because his father walked into the kitchen.

 

Chapter Ten

 _Misha_

Misha was drench in sweat, having just walked in the door from a long run -- during which he was pondering another Charity run, in order not to ponder running his tongue against Jensen skin -- and in his kitchen downing a bottle of water with his sweaty shirt on the floor by his feet. He glanced at the stove clock, it was going on eight o’clock. He frowned wondering how he’d spend the rest of his night? Vicky’s advice on going out and finding someone to lose himself in, have fun and take that first step to moving on floated in his head, along with his own resounding feeling of _no way in hell_. Vicky was the rational voice this time, he wasn’t. They switched off often. He knew he was the crazy one, he knew it was nuts, but he couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t seem to let go but he kept hearing Vicky’s voice telling him he should.

Misha finished the water and had toed off one running shoe by this time, as he thought the unwanted thoughts, when his doorbell rang. Frowning because he wasn’t expecting anyone, he hurriedly toed off the other shoe in an odd walking dance as he headed for the door. He opened the door, looking down to make sure he kicked the shoe off inside and not at his visitor.

Looking up he found himself staring at Jensen.

And found Jensen staring at his stomach and chest.

Then he found himself pushed against the wall, the wind knocked out him, breathing through his nose because his mouth was busy. Jensen’s tongue was down his throat and Misha’s wasn’t about to be outdone. It was deja vu for Misha, only Jensen didn’t taste of alcohol, he tasted of stale coffee and peanuts, but his hands were against his ribs, thumbs pressed and skimming his nipples just like the night of his party. Only they were kissing, rushed, deep, and crazy. Teeth clashed, both their tongues demanding, Misha couldn’t stop himself from grabbing. He pushed his way under Jensen’s shirt, touching his skin, dipping down toward his hips, dipping lower trying to get under the waist of his pants as well.

He needed to breath. He kept trying to take the air through his nose; he felt Jensen’s chest constrict and concave rapidly against him too, felt the air against his mouth, his face. They both needed to breathe and finally, unwillingly they pulled apart.

And that was when their eyes met, shades darker than usual, shocked, dazed. They both inhaled and Jensen took a step back away from Misha, he almost stepped out of the still-open front door. Misha slumped against the wall. He felt upended and he wanted to lean back in, grab and take but he saw the look that flashed across Jensen’s features before he’d stepped away and ducked his head. Contrite.

“Shit...” Jensen muttered.

“Uh, yeah, Hi, what brings you by,” Misha heard himself bite out, his voice cracked yet heavy with derision.

Jensen looked up then, his features adding concern to the guilt and Misha just turned around, and started upstairs towards his bedroom. He didn’t know if he was stalking off in a huff, or telling Jensen he better damn well follow him. What he did know was he wasn’t getting laid anytime soon. As usual, he thought.

He felt Jensen behind him. It felt a bit like winning, but he didn’t enjoy it because he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

“I’m... I came by to fill you in,” Jensen said when Misha stopped walking. By this time, he was standing in the middle of his bedroom. Turning around, arms crossed defensively across his chest Misha saw Jensen at the door to the room.

Not in, not out. Unclaimed. Just like them.

“On what? What little detail about your failing marriage did you decide I need to know this time, that it isn’t even a phone call, that you had to drive over here unannounced, what is it Jensen? Danneel is talking therapy, going to your church’s priest? She call and yell at you and wanted to warn me how pissed she is? Like I don’t know. I thought we were supposed to keep it professional. At work -- you aren’t -- you keep showing up. If I have to watch you save your fucking marriage let me fucking do it from a fucking distance!”

“Misha...”

“No, I’m not done. We decide to stay away from each other, you tell me you can’t cheat on your wife, you’re married that means something and then -- you call, you walk over to me on the set, you’re always in my face and then you come over here and maul me. You know, in case you didn’t get the memo, Jensen, _In. Love. With. You_. I can’t... I can’t be around you like this, talking to you on the damn phone. I’m...you’re the damn fuck up who married her and yeah, I didn’t say anything but hell I thought I met you too late... I should be off fucking other people, getting you the hell out of my head. I shouldn’t be running around, keeping busy with anything I can think of just so I don’t have to think about you. And I’m tired of being supportive because I was idiot who wanted what he could get, but you know what. I can’t have you the way I want, forget it. You probably only think you’re in love with me anyway....”

“What, what did you just say?” Jensen shouts, his face taking on Dean Winchester I-Will-Kill-You-Intensity. “What the fuck did, _you_ , just say?”

“You only think you’re in love with me. You think I’m hot, you miss taking it up the ass, I don’t know? But you married her, you love her, you only think you love me.”

“Shut the fuck up, Misha!”

“Not until you get through your head that you need to get lost.”

“Hell, no, I’m not going away until you fucking listen to me.”

“About what?”

“About the fact I love you.”

“I think we covered that.”

“No, you shouted, I’ve listened but there is no way I’m listening to you rant and rave about me _thinking_ I love you because I’ve bitten off my own father’s head when he said that. And I’m fucking tired of hearing it, Misha. I’m sick and tired of everyone telling me that I might only _think_ I love you. Because there is no way I can’t love you. I tried, I tried that first time I noticed my attraction to you wasn’t going away, that it wasn’t just lust because you’re fucking hot, but it was more -- it was because you’re infuriating, you go left when I think you’ll go straight. You have the biggest fucking heart I’ve ever seen on a person but you hide it behind sarcasm and obfuscation. It’s not a thought, it’s not fucking lust, and since I’ve never actually been with a man beyond some kissing, groping and receiving blow jobs -- the exception being you, the exception is you, because I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, anything, and I finally had to admit I’m bi, I had to admit it because there was no way around the fact I love you. I just came from Texas, I love you, so I went home to tell my parents their son is bisexual, that he hurt his best friend by marrying her when his heart wasn’t totally into it because he was a coward.... Fuck it, Mish you’re right I’m the fuck up, and I probably don’t deserve you but don’t _you_ ever say I don’t love you!”

Misha knew he was smart, he used it as a weapon without consciously thinking about it on a daily basis. He always had words, he always had someway of answering a question, winning an argument. But he was speechless, he was confounded, he was amazed. There had been too much information, to much to take in, in that burst by Jensen and it totally toppled his view of their situation from down to up. Jensen was looking at him now, eyes wide, breathing too heavily from nerves and adrenaline, Misha thought, given how much Misha had raised his hackles. He looked vulnerable, stripped down and Misha swallow and told his brain to think of something to say when his mouth figured out what it wanted to say, “That was your first time giving a blow job?” It was an issue, it was, because knowing that Jensen was a virgin when it came to men explained a lot, it put into perspective so many things that Misha felt dizzy from it, but it wasn’t the most important thing.

He watched Jensen blush at the question however and he couldn’t deny that the sight of Jensen Ackles open, vulnerable and pink was wickedly easy on the eyes, and beautiful. Misha knew what the most important part of Jensen’s speech had been.

“You’re divorcing Danneel, I meant to say, you’re getting a divorce?” Misha said, hating how pleading he sounded, but damn he wanted -- needed -- it to be true.

Jensen nodded.

“Oh.”

Jensen had come into the room during his shouting, but now he stepped closer, he walked into Misha’s personal bubble and grabbed him by the hips, looked him straight in the eye and said. “Danneel and I are divorcing. I love you, Misha.”

Misha kissed him, he couldn’t not and it was softer, it was slower, but it was still heady -- fervent. Misha whined when Jensen pulled back and he saw the look in Jensen’s eyes. That look of guilt and lust, that look responsibility. Misha hated that look.

“I promised Danneel we wouldn’t -- I’m not really sure what I promised her exactly, but I promised her nothing would come out about us until the divorce was final, something like that. I just, I owe her that much, it’s not enough...” Jensen broke off and looked away, but stayed where he was, kept his palms against Misha’s skin, just above his hipbones. Misha reached out and put his hand on Jensen’s chin, making him look back.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “So, uh, when I asked you how long it’d been back when we almost -- that look on your face had been about it being never, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jensen blushed and this time when he let his head fall down, it fell against Misha’s forehead.

 

“We should stop with the random groping then, take it slower,” Misha said as he put his own hands under Jensen’s shirt on the skin closest to the waistline of his jeans.

“Might be a good idea, I...” Jensen said.

“You told your parents?”

Jensen nodded.

“That’s why you came by?”

“It was my excuse, you were right, I wasn’t staying away from you. I can’t stay away from you. I did it all time, make up reasons to talk to you. Run through the script with me Misha, want play golf this weekend Misha, hey come hang out tonight Misha...”

Misha laughed, he nodded. “If Jared wasn’t usually right behind you, I might have picked up on it.”

“Jared was my way of rationalizing it as just hanging with friends.”

Misha let go of Jensen, letting his fingers linger against the skin as long as he could, he could still feel the heat of him on his finger tips as he dropped his hands to Jensen’s and removed his palms from Misha’s hips. “Uh, why don’t you go downstairs, order take out -- menus are in the drawer to the left of the stove. I need to shower and put on clothes. Otherwise we’re...and we really should talk.”

Jensen nodded, but his eyes were raking over Misha’s body. “Yeah,” he said but it sounded more like he was agreeing with the opposite action. It went right to Misha’s groin but he had to keep his head. “We’ve been on two different pages for too long, we’ve got to...”

“You don’t have to talk me into it,” Jensen said and he backed up a few steps. “Chinese, Thai?”

“Thai, vegetarian.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I know, you heathen.”

Misha laughed, Jensen smiled, ducked his head, than walked out of the room. Misha walked toward his bathroom feeling lighter than he had in months.

 

~~

Misha woke up as the sun started shining through the east facing windows of his living room. He was on the couch, arm slung behind Jensen, who was still asleep, drooling a bit onto Misha’s shoulder. They’d talked all night. Misha swallowed and blinked a few times, letting Jensen’s face, so close, so very close come back into focus every time. Still there. Once, twice, five times now. Real.

Since Christmas Jensen had looked tired, worn around the edges, more like Dean Winchester than Dean Winchester himself -- since Dean had make up to make him look camera-ready. Now, here, Jensen was in Misha’s arms and Misha’s heartbeat sped up at the thought. Jensen looked peaceful. He was sleeping, his lashes were long and against his skin, leading to freckles that Misha wanted to count -- but not yet because he had time, and wasn’t that a trip? Misha relaxed into the couch, relaxed into his hold on Jensen, matched his breath to Jensen’s slower sleeping breath. This was a moment to savor.

Last night after everything had exploded, after they’d put everything out and landed on the same page. Finally landed on the same page, saying the same words they’d talked most of the night. Misha had learned about Jensen’s faltering baby steps when it came to his bisexuality, about Todd the first and only guy to matter. Until Misha, that is. About fumbling hand jobs and kisses before his inner fear and self-doubt would send him back to breasts and female curves. Misha heard about how and why Jensen had fallen in love with Danneel enough to believe it was real, for it probably to have been something that could’ve been forever if Misha hadn’t come into Jensen’s life.

 

Misha had told him things too. About how his first kiss had been a boy named Danny in the sixth grade, in a parking lot of a 7-11 and how Danny had never even looked at him again afterward. About how he and Vicky had met the first day of 7th grade and become one person and almost had gotten married. How the only reason Vicky’s family probably hadn’t disowned her when they both said I don’t at the same time when the Justice of Peace asked him if he took Vicky to be his wife on the rocky Massachusetts beach they’d chosen to be wed on, was because they’d planned such a small wedding anyway. His mother was throwing the reception in their backyard. They’d still had the party. And in talking about Vicky, it had become crystalclear to Misha that Danneel was Jensen’s Vicky -- and what Jensen had damaged by not being more sure of his needs and his true wants.

It felt like a piece of his being was torn just thinking about losing Vicky, and now he got why Jensen once he got his head out of his ass, had to go about making things right the way he had. Misha got that, because he knew what it was to have a best friend that was almost everything you needed in life and you needed them like you need air. Yet they weren’t the one that fit that one slot in your heart, they weren’t the one that slipped under your skin in that way that made your blood speed up so your heart raced and your belly heated.

Misha was going to do everything in his power to help Jensen grieve the loss of Danneel’s friendship. How? He had no clue, he sighed then and Jensen moved, his eyelids fluttered and Misha held his breath. It was too early for Jensen to be awake, he needed sleep. Misha exhaled only when the peaceful look returned to Jensen’s face and he smiled. He felt flattered and unworthy of Jensen giving up something so amazing for him...yet he wasn’t in love with Danneel...Life was messy, it got dirty, it got so complicated.

Might as well enjoy the sleepy, sunshiny moments like this, Misha thought, eyes closing and thoughts drifting to the make out sessions that had happened the night before. Of course they’d happened, they’d been inevitable. They’d been in each other’s space, words could not have been the only things to exchange between them. They couldn’t stop themselves from touching. Jensen’s hands in his hair, his hands on Jensen’s wrists, shoulders, chest. Jensen’s hands on his face, neck and ribs -- but through his shirt. They made -- against their real wishes -- a clothes-on rule. Then there was the kissing. They kissed, slow and soft, until their eagerness for more got the better of them both and their hands dipped under hems and waists of clothes and they had to use all their adult strength of character to pull back. Usually, mostly, always it was Jensen first...and it was because of Danneel. Jensen wouldn’t break his word to her, he would keep his promise to not do anything more than he already had with Misha until their divorce was final.

Misha had to admit too, what he’d said about them moving slower was right too. Jensen’s history, or lack there of, how they were getting together, their careers, their jobs, everything pointed to them being smart, careful. They had a lot of issues to cover, discuss, they weren’t perfect, they just got on the same page, they might not be perfectly in sync yet. They had a long road, he’d have to patient for a lot longer. Misha sighed. Patience, had never been his strong suit. It was one of the main reasons he’d gotten into meditation, to work on his patience.

He breathed in and then out. The sun was shining, he had the man he loved in his arms. This was a great moment to just take in, with a clear mind. He leaned back into the couch again, once again matched his breathing with Jensen’s sleeping breath and this time didn’t start to think. He just enjoyed the moment.

 

Chapter Eleven  
 _Jensen_

Jensen felt sweat on the back of his neck. He wasn’t surprised, he wiped it off with his palm then nervously wiped his palm off on his jeans. Jared was answering a questioning about Sam at the moment, the fans hanging on his every word, laughing, taking in what he said like loyal, old friends who needed to know what they’d missed in their absence.

Yet.... Something was off. Something had been off the whole day, starting with the morning breakfast he’d done with a few fans, a more quiet one on one. The women around the table with him had been tense. It was not the tenseness of meeting him -- that usually faded after a few moments. He’d learned long ago how to help put fans at ease about that. He was just a guy and by just being himself soon everything leveled out and was relatively an easy conversation between him and the fans This time however the fans were more subdued, they’d kept looking at each other when they thought he was focused on someone else.

Jared was still talking, but Jensen felt too many eyes on him and yeah sure, there were always eyes on him at fan conventions -- but this was different. They were watching him for something, they were...studying him? He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The energy at this convention had taken a weird turn, yesterday had been normal; today was spooky -- it was almost as if he’d walked into an episode of his own show. Maybe he should be looking for demons in the audience?

Jared called for the next question.

A young girl, who looked around fourteen walked up the microphone, she looked like she’d been crying, Jensen and Jared exchanged looks, Jensen lifted a brow. Jared shrugged and mouthed ‘today is weird.” Jensen nodded.

“Hi, my name is Carrie.”

“Hi, Carrie!” they said in unison.

“Jensen, you have to say it’s not true!” Carrie sobbed out, it was almost incomprehensible but he somehow understood her.

He felt something heavy fall into his gut but he repeated her question anyway, wanting to make sure he’d heard her right, hoping he hadn’t because it didn’t bode well. Thecrowd of fans around him and Jared a lot of them were groaning in unison. “What’s not true?” he heard himself ask the teenager, knowing, just knowing he was going to regret this.

“You and Danneel?”

Jensen forced his face to stay neutral. He prayed it did, that his eyes hadn’t opened wide in fear, that his mouth hadn’t dropped open.

“And that you aren’t, that you aren’t....with, with, another _man_!” the young girl cried, in a way that said she’d been raised to think that it was wrong.

He felt nauseated. It’d been about a month since he and Misha had talked things out. Danneel had put everything in motion but things took time and he still hadn’t been delivered any paper work. Or heard anything else from Danneel except the email that she’d been to the courthouse in L.A. and filed for an uncontested divorce.

“You know Misha? It’s all over the Internet! That you are... with Misha Collins and left Danneel for him. Say it isn’t true, that the pictures mean nothing!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jensen thought and realized he had to say something soon, because the teenager at the mike was going to keep talking, despite the crowd groaning and a few yelling at her to shut up -- they were all also looking at him waiting for answer. Clif was making his way up to the microphone -- and he had no clue that what the poor kid was saying was true, making Jensen adding another person for Jensen to feel gulity about. Jensen watched as Clif and the security provided by the convention pulled the girl back off from the microphone and back to her parents -- or at least Jensen hoped the woman she was handed to was her mother.

“I think, I can speak for both Jensen and myself, that we haven’t seen anything on the Internet today, so we can’t really comment on something we haven’t seen.”

Jensen glanced over and silently thanked Jared for the rescue but he had to do something. “If, uh, continue asking Jared some questions, I’ll just go see what’s going on...” he got up and walked off the stage, because he didn’t know what else to do.

 

 

 _Misha_

Misha watched as Vicky inhaled her iced mocha with soy milk the second it landed at the table the little cafe they were at somewhere in the heart of Los Angeles. Misha had found it one day while walking around, purposely getting lost, because he always found little gems that way. And he’d found it, the least pretentious, non-Hollywood, little cafe. He loved it. Every time Vicky came out to L.A. he took here. And here they were.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell there was a convention this weekend. You could be holed up in a hotel room with Jensen when not being cryptic for the fans,” Vicky said when she came up for air.

Misha shook his head and shrugged, but he eyes and mouth gave him away. He smiled large and wicked at just the thought of Jensen, making his laugh lines show themselves and his eyes twinkle. “It’s for the best, we get too -- we are trying too, we...”

“You two would fuck, you mean?” She whispered across the table. “And there can be none of that because of Danneel and the divorce papers not being signed yet.”

“They haven’t even been produced yet,” Misha sighed. “Bureaucracy is a bitch.”

“True that,” Vicky said and her cell phone beeped. “Oh, that could my agent, I’m really hoping this publisher will want the book, I think it’s the best f--” she opened her phone as she talked.

“What?” Misha asked. “Bad news?”

“Uh?”

“Vicky, what?”

Vicky handed him her phone. Misha took it, thinking she either couldn’t say that the publishers has turned down her book out loud or that they wanted her book very much and had made a really great offer. Instead what we saw was a page from TMZ with pictures of his face, Jensen’s and Danneel’s in that order and the headline: Danneel Harris Divorcing Jensen Ackles. Why? His On Set Gay Sexcapades with Misha Collins.

There was a link to read more but Misha just closed the phone, suppressed the urge to throw it and handed it back to Vicky. Then he sat quietly, just sat there for a long time. He felt cold fear run down his spine and grabbed his phone. “He’s at convention, a damn convention. Just one, it takes just one stupid fan....” He dialed Jensen’s number but it went straight to voicemail.

“Jensen, shit. Have you heard or seen the... Fucking TMZ? Call me...” Misha hung up and shook his head. Then he opened his contact information. “I have to go to Las Vegas, Vic, I gotta...”

“I know,” Vicky said, gathering up her things. “Come on, I’ll help you get packed.”

 

 _Jensen_

 

It was the pictures that floored Jensen. Some were taken before Christmas, some where taken last week. There seven of them, all of them looked intimate, and with them all attached to a gossip website, talking about how sources close to Danneel Harris had said she’d found out her entire relationship was based on lies. He told her he was in love Collins the day of their wedding... Every one of the pictures looked worse than intimate, they looked like cheating in broad day light.

Jensen sighed and let his head hit the wall just outside of the stage where Jared and now Chad Lindberg were taking the hit for him. He’d have to buy them both a lot of beer later. There was a table nearby, so he put the laptop PA for the convention had let him borrow on it and stood there. Thinking about just how right on all the sources close to Danneel were and trying not to jump to conclusions, trying not to mark her guilty before talking to her. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed her number.

He got her voicemail. “Danneel. I don’t think I need to tell you why I need you to call me back,” he bit out before hanging up. It was then he saw he had five messages. Five messages.

He sighed. Called his own voice mail.

The first one was someone from fucking TMZ. How the hell had they gotten his cell phone number? Well, changing it, he numbly thought as he erased the message without listening to it. Like he’d give them a statement. Second one was his sister, trying to warn him and telling him that the family was on his side and wondering how Danneel could do this to him. Fleetingly Jensen thought he’d have to call them and call them soon. The third message it turned out was from Danneel.

“Jensen. I, God --” She was crying. “I didn’t do this, I swear I did not do this. I don’t know who told...someone, I thought everyone who heard the full story could be trusted. I...I’m so sor..” And she hung up mid apology.

Someone else had betrayed her, he heard it in her voice. He knew Danneel. She was sincere, she hadn’t let anything leak. She’d trusted someone and that someone had betrayed her. Another person she thought she could trust, betrayed her.Jensen almost punched the wall but then he heard Misha’s voice in his ear.

Sounding as angry as he felt, as hurt as he felt. He closed his eyes. He had a sudden urgency to call Misha back, needing to talk to him, thinking it was the only he was going to feel grounded enough to back out there onto that stage but there was one more message on the phone. He bounced a bit in place, waiting for it play.

“Jensen, It’s Kripke. Call me back.”

“Shit.” Jensen thought. Right. He looked at his cellphone. Kripke or Misha, he knew what he wanted to do, but the phone vibrated right there in his hand and he sighed. He opened it and prayed it wouldn’t be another so-called-reporter.

“Hello?”

“Jensen...” said the voice of his agent’s secretary, Ms. Polk would like to talk to you.”

He nodded, more to himself than anyone, it was time to bite this bullet. Sooner than planned but it was going to happen anyway. Wasn’t really how he’d wanted it go down. He’d thought he’d have control of the story -- but given the givens he didn’t deserve that. Problem was Danneel and Misha sure as hell did.

 _Misha_

It was a rush, but about an hour later, Misha, with nothing but one change of clothes, and the impression of Vicky’s lips in red on his left cheek found himself buckling the belt of his coach seat. He’d been told the flight was full-up, that he’d gotten got the last seat, but the seat next to him was still empty. However people were still boarding. He sighed, tapped the floor with his feet, the side arms the seat with is fingers. He looked out the window, he could see the wing and willed the plane to take flight. He wanted to get to Vegas and he wanted to get to Vegas now.

Someone stopped at his aisle, it was in the back, just a two seat aisle. There was some rummaging, a bit of swearing as a large carry-on was maneuvered onto to the overhead. Misha turned, ready to ask the woman, if she needed any help when he found himself staring up into Danneel’s brown eyes.

“Fuck my life,” Danneel said, and shoved her over stuffed bag once more and it slid into place. She then fell into the seat next to Misha and sighed.

Misha turned back to the window and gritted his teeth. He tapped his feet a few million more times. Danneel, was now rummaging through her purse, cursing and muttering. She pulled out her cellphone and dialed a number....then swore again. “Why aren’t you answering?” she groaned.

“Jensen?” Misha asked, his mouth again speaking before asking his brain permission. He’d tried calling him to let him know he was coming but kept getting voicemail. He’d left one more message about his plans but he’d yet to get a call back. Danneel sighed and was quiet for over a minute but then said,“Yes.”

“Same here,” Misha said but he didn’t offer more than that.

Danneel closed her phone and put it away in her purse, then dropped the purse to her feet. “I didn’t do this,” she said. “I just want you to know that. I did not this do this.”

Misha shrugged. He’d seen the articles, Vicky had pulled up as many as she could find. He’d seen the candid shots of him and Jensen, all taken on set -- Clif was probably having an aneurism. It looked bad for Danneel, yet someone despite Vicky calling her every name in the book Misha couldn’t believe it. When Vicky finally stopped spewing curses long enough to ask him why he was defending her, he’d said simply. “She’s you to Jensen’s me -- even angry as all hell at me you’d never.” Misha had told her. Vicky had just hoped he was right.

“I didn’t think you did.”

“Did you talk...”

“No.”

“Jared isn’t answering...” Danneel sighed.

Misha nodded and looked back out the window. They sat silently. The plane took off. They were in the sky. They sat. They fidgeted. It was the most awkward situation of Misha’s life -- and he’d been in a lot, he’d caused most of them but this took the cake.

 

Chapter Twelve

 _Misha_

 

“Do you know you have lipstick on your cheek?” Danneel asked, breaking the loudnest silence Misha had ever found himself trapped in. It brought new levels of understanding to the definition of awkward in his mind. He shrugged, in answer to the question. Vicky had smacked him one on his cheek before they left; she’d been wearing bright red lipstick, it wasn’t a shock. Danneel picked up her purse and pulled out little plastic pouch that said something about eye makeup and pulled out a wet tissue.

“This will take it off.” She offered it over.

Misha took it, he wasn’t really worried about getting it off but she was being polite, making an effort to make things less awkward and she didn’t have too -- in fact she had every right to be asking to change seats, or to read him the riot act, so Misha figured he go with her on this. If was leading to a trap, or there was some sort of skin absorbing poison on the eye makeup cloth she handed him, it was all good. He wiped at his cheek a bit, removing the lipstick.

“I’m worried about him,” they said in unison.

Misha nodded. It was weird, sitting next to her, but the reason why he was -- that was a heavy lead balloon in his stomach. All his muscles felt tense because of it but he couldn’t make the plane fly faster, and though he wished Danneel wasn’t next to him making him feel guilty, making him wonder if he even had the right to be running to Jensen’s rescue, at least he knew he wasn’t the only one worried. Hearing her say it, with him, made him think maybe she understood why he was running to Jensen’s side.

“He’s got Jared with him,” Misha said. “It’ll be okay, just bad timing you know.”

Danneel shook her head and blinked heavily, leaning her head down and breathing in through her nose. “I, I don’t know who did this -- when I figure it out though, they are getting a beat down. I just, I can’t fathom who out of the few I told would -- damn it.”

“Might not be from your side, could be someone from the set, overheard him and Jared, or me and him? All the exclusive pictures from the set -- might not be any of your friends?” Misha said, floating a theory he’d been building up in his head since he’d seen the shots. They talked, him and Jensen, Jensen and Jared. They did it discreetly, in their trailers, but that didn’t mean they weren’t over heard. Jensen felt bad about Danneel, the subject came up more than Misha wanted to hear it....but he’d listened anyway because he’d grasped the pain. “We never shouted anything, we never talked outside of the trailers, or our cars, and I know Jensen and Jared never talked about it in front of Clif. Jensen felt it should stay as quiet as possible until things were final. Then he’d tell his representatives, the producers, and he and I’d go from there,” Misha shut up then, hoping he hadn’t shared too much about him and Jensen planning for their future coming out as a couple, because it was going to be pretty simultaneous with Jensen coming out period.

Danneel let out little laugh, one of those ones you let out when don’t want to cry. She looked over at him and sighed. “I really wish they’d cast someone else as Castiel,” she said. “Because if they had, I’m pretty sure I’d still be married and totally clueless...but maybe Jensen wouldn’t be totally happy, he’d just be telling himself he was... I don’t know.”

 

Misha didn’t know what to say, because he couldn’t say he wasn’t happy it had turned out as it had. He also couldn’t say he didn’t believe that the universe had a way making things turn out the way they weren’t meant to, even if you didn’t understand them. He wasn’t religious in way she was, the way Jensen was, but he believed.

“He loves you,” Misha said, without really thinking about it, his mouth ahead of him again. He was okay with it though, because he couldn’t say anything else to her without sounding trite, and this was real. Jensen loved her.

“No, he doesn’t. Not anymore.”

Misha sighed. “I don’t mean he’s in love with you, I mean he loves you. He loves you, he always has, before you got together, that was the love he had during your whole relationship and it’s the love he feels now. It was more for a bit there, for real I think until...”

“You,” she said, rather bitterly and she sighed right afterward. “Sorry.”

“No offense, would be strange and wrong if you weren’t angry.”

“True,” Danneel said.

Misha nodded.

And then they fell into silence again. It was still uneasy, but it was less taut and uncomfortable.

 

 _Jensen_

Jensen paced his hotel room. He’d made Jared and Genevieve leave twenty minutes ago. They’d been helpful and he didn’t know what he would have done without their support, Jared’s jokes and loyalty and Gen’s empathy, but he wanted to be alone now.

His world had gone upside down again. Through the rabbit hole, and out into a world even crazier than Alice’s. He was now out, he was now known as the guy who broke Danneel Harris’s heart. He was the guy sleeping with Misha Collins. He sighed -- that one wasn’t even true. Well, they’d slept together a few times, falling asleep after long nights of talking and driving each other to the brink of coming in their pants like teenagers.

Jensen sat the edge of his bed. He didn’t regret his choices, , he just hated how long it’d taking him, how wrong-headed it’d gone about it and how it had it all come out most of all. He’d been forced to talk to his management, he’d had to tell them everything on the defensive instead of being the one who walked in and let them know before the story was known by anyone but a few friends. He’d had to call Kripke, Gamble and Singer to explain to them that yes he and Misha were together, yes he’d left Danneel, and apologize for it coming out this way on websites and tabloids. It wasn’t supposed to happen, he was sure Danneel hadn’t floated the story, it wasn’t her style and why would she want the world to know how he’d mislead for so long? He and Misha both had meant to make an appointment to see them before the end of this season, before the new season to tell them themselves.

Then he’d had to call home. He’d had to make sure Mackenzie and his parents weren’t blaming Danneel, he had to tell them he was okay -- that he was pissed at how it came out but it was all going to come out anyway. He had no clue how it came out, but it didn’t really matter -- it was the price of being who he was, someone in the public eye, they understood that. It was always a risk his private life could become fodder for the press -- until now he’d been too vanilla for them to ever say anything.

Jensen heard his phone vibrate somewhere in the room and remembered he’d never had the chance to call back Misha. He stood up and found it on the table near the window. Picked it up and saw it was just his voicemail saying he now had ten messages. He frowned, he wasn’t in the mood to listen to messages so instead he called up his missed called list. More than half were Danneel, a few were Misha and a the rest were various friends.

Jensen wanted to call Misha but when he opened his phone he called Danneel instead.

“Jensen,” Danneel said into the phone, she sounding a bit breathless. “I just landed, I’m trying to get a cab now to get the hotel.”

“Wait, what?” Jensen said. “You’re here?”

“Yes, didn’t you get my messages?”

“No, I just saw you called.”

“I had to talk to you in person, I couldn’t, I feel awful...OH, one finally stopped for me. I’ll be there soon, what is your room number?”

“Suite 1322.”

“Okay, be there soon,” she said, and hung up.

Jensen stood there, listening to dead space for a moment before he closed his phone. She’d flown out to Vegas. He shook his head to clear it and sighed. Then sat back down on the bed, he needed to hear Misha’s voice. He dialed Misha’s number and frowned when it went straight to voicemail. Groaning, he decided to go wash his face, and that he should change out of the clothes he’d been sweating in since the teenager had shown up at the microphone. He probably didn’t have time for a shower before Danneel arrived, but he could freshen up a bit.

 

 _Misha_

 

Misha frowned at his cellphone when it went straight to Jensen’s voicemail, then he just sighed, picked up his bag and started to walk out of the airport. He’d let Danneel get ahead of him. Just in case they were both recognized, he didn’t think it’d be good for them to be seen together, who knew what a candid shot of them might do the rumors and lies flying around on the Internet gossip sites. He didn’t want to imagine. Maybe if it was something else, something that wasn’t personal, that wasn’t about his own life, that wasn’t about Jensen’s heart and soul being put out there against his will. Maybe then he’d enjoy it and laugh, but now it did nothing but make him angry.

Misha wanted to know who had done this, who had given TMZ the story, who had taken the photos and given them to the website to publish. He considered himself a pacifist, he had never in his life wanted to harm another creature -- he didn’t kill spiders, or insects found in his home. But he wanted to break somone’s nose now. He wanted to harm someone -- or at least threaten to harm. He could do that -- he’d just channel Castiel. Castiel smited.    
It had been paramount to Jensen that he have control over this story. Jensen never gave away anything private to the press, he was open to the fans, he gave him his honesty, his sense of humor, his intelligence but it was all about Supernatural, it was all about set side friendships, and he’d opened it up to be about music too because the fans had ferreted that out and he’d gotten his friends gigs at the conventions playing -- and gotten them fans in their own right. But there was a line and this was crossing it for the first time for Jensen. And Jensen had wanted to control it, his way. Misha had understood. He was going to follow him, stand beside him and a little behind him. After all, Misha didn’t have anything to hide, he knew there were pictures of him out there with women and with men. He wasn’t hiding who was but he’d never come out either -- he wasn’t a big enough actor to have too, he wasn’t the star of a television show. And he didn’t mind sharing his life as much as Jensen did. He had his lines though, but he happily hid his behind being crazy and sardonic.

He grabbed hold of a cab, hopped in and gave the name of hotel.

 

 _Jensen_

Jensen had just pulled a black henley on when he heard the knock at the door, and he opened it and saw Danneel standing there with a huge overnight bag, and her usual gigantic purse. She looked great to his eyes after not seeing her for so long. She looked like Dani, she’d cut hair in a new style, had some new reddish highlights and lightened her hair. All her jewelry was silver instead of gold for once. She’d look stunning if her eyes weren’t red rimmed and if she didn’t look nervous.

He grabbed the overnight back. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said.

“Look...”

“I didn’t do it,” she said quickly. “I just need you to know I didn’t do this. I would never do this to you. I know how private you are, I know that it would be so important to control the story even if weren’t about your privacy. But really it’s about the privacy and the trust -- and even though you broke mine I wouldn’t -- I’m not trying to be on a high horse -- I wouldn’t break yours to get even. This isn’t coming out right...it’s because I’m still angry.”

“I know,” Jensen said and he risked grabbing her by her hands, and getting right in front of her just shy of her personal bubble. “I know you wouldn’t do this, you are too classy.”

Danneel nodded and took in a sharp breath. “I needed to say all that in person,” she laughed. “And now...” she pulled a bit and Jensen let go of her hands. She delved into her bag and pulled out a file. “I’ve already signed them, all you have to do is sign them and then I can give them to the lawyer to file.”

Jensen took the file from her and stared. “Uh, wow.”

“I was going to mail them first thing Monday, but... I saw them as I was packing and...”

“Yeah.”

Jensen walked over to the table by the window, where his phone had been earlier, there was a pen there. He picked it up, opened the folder and scanned the first page, then the second, found the first place that needed his signature opposite of where Danneel had already signed with her legal name, Elta Danneel Graul Ackles. He frowned for a moment, sadness slapping him in the gut for a moment. He wondered when she’d not be angry, if they could ever be friends again? Then he sighed, bit his lip and signed, flipped and signed a few more times, then made sure he’d signed everywhere he was supposed to before closing the file and turning. Danneel was busy looking at the picture hung up over the bed in the room, a garden scene, generic and made of pastel colors as if it was fine art. He cleared his throat, she wiped her eyes and turned around.

“Here,” he said.

She took it in a shaking hand. “Misha should be here soon, so....”

“What?”

Danneel laughed, an actual real laugh for a moment until the end where it shifted closer to a sob that she swallowed down. “We shared a plane ride out, you should listen to your messages. He was very nice, he seems to think it was someone from the set who leaked everything and not someone I wrongly trusted,” she said. “He said, he’d give me a head start, he didn’t think it’d be good to get recognized together, all things considered. I think he also wanted to give us time alone. He’s...nice.” She walked to where Jensen had dropped her bag.

“Dani?”

She picked up her bag. “I came here because I just had to apologize in person, see that you were okay, and well the papers, she slipped them into her overnight bag. I’ll get them to the lawyer -- you don’t...you and Misha, you don’t have to hold back anymore, what’s the point you know?”

“Dani...” Jensen tried again, not even sure of what he was going to try to say. Because another apology would be empty. Asking to be friends, would still be salt on a wound at this point, he was sure.

“I’m not ready to be this close to you, you know?” She said, but then she rushed forward and hugged him.

Jensen hugged her back tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her and closing his eyes. God, he missed her.

“Maybe in a year or so,” she whispered, so lowly he wasn’t even sure he had heard her, or if it was his own wishful thinking. Then she was out of his arms, holding her bags again and out of the door. “Be happy,” were the last words he heard before the door closed.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 _Jensen_

Misha had taken all the air out of him, Jensen was sure. When Misha’s palms hit his chest and pushed him back, he fell onto the bed with an oomph, his body bouncing up just a bit, stopped only by Misha’s. Conscious of his breathlessness, Jensen took a moment to draw in a lungful of oxygen, knowing he might need it later.

Misha was over him, his entire body between Jensen’s spread legs, hands on the bed beside his shoulders, looking down at him as he took in air himself. Jensen grinned up him lazily. “Hi,” he said, realizing they hadn’t said a word to each other since he’d opened the hotel room door for Misha.

Misha licked his lips. “Hi.”

Jensen leaned up as much as he could trapped underneath Misha, a place he found he loved to be. He took Misha’s lower lip between his teeth gently, only to groan when Misha turned it into a full kiss.

It wasn’t long before they’d both taken off their shirts, straining, pushing, rubbing against each other as they kissed, grabbed and occasionally gently -- and not so gently bit -- each other. They were reaching the point where Jensen used to use a measure of will that he’d never knew existed to pull back, to pull away -- to keep them waist up and not waist down, from going further.

He pulled back, breathing heaving, and saw the pen on the table. The hotel’s pen that the room had been furnished with, for whatever reason. Jensen had signed his name with it, on the high quality paper of his divorce papers. Divorced. Not filed, but good as....

Misha was on his knees, breathing heavily too, looking down at the bedspread, counting colors, thinking it uglier than fugly -- for all Jensen knew. Jensen usually stared into space telling himself sports statistics to calm down, he never knew what Misha did. They wouldn’t even look at each other until they were breathing normally and felt they could walk without their legs shaking from unfulfilled lust.

They weren’t stopping this time, they didn’t have to.

Jensen focused back on Misha, moved on his own knees as close as he could get, and latched his mouth onto Misha’s neck, sucked there for awhile, worrying the skin, wanting to mark it. Misha moaned, high from surprise. He leaned forward, his mouth finding a spot on Jensen’s skin, and started to do the same. Jensen groaned into Misha’s skin, and moved his hands down to Misha’s jeans, fingers finding the button, fumbling with the denim, pushing the button through the hole -- Misha’s hands, his awesome long fingered hands grabbed Jensen’s, mouth moving off his skin with a pop. Jensen did the same and their eyes met.

“Jensen?”

“I signed the divorced papers,” Jensen said.

Misha grinned. He kissed Jensen’s mouth soft and fast; then he was all pinpoint focus at Jensen’s button. “Never knew those were the sexiest words in the English language.”

Laughing, Jensen dragged down Misha’s zipper. “I want you to fuck me,” Jensen said, knowing his voice caught but he didn’t care. He loved Misha -- too much, he thought sometimes. “I have everything we need in shaving kit, I always do, I just...I want...”

“Shh...” Misha put a finger against Jensen’s lips to stop Jensen from continue to babble nervously. Jensen noticed that Misha had pulled down his own zipper. “I got everything we need in the bag I dropped right by the bed...” He winked, as he said it. “Are you sure? It’s not fin...”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” Jensen said. “We talked.” He didn’t want to talk about Danneel now, not now. This was about him and Misha. “Now it’s time for us.”

Misha grinned, nose scrunching up, laugh lines framing his eyes, the blue of them shining bright. “Us, huh. I like that.”

“Me too,” Jensen said.

“Lie down,” Misha ordered, hands on Jensen’s chest, thumbs rolling lightly over his skin, before a quick tweak of Jensen’s right nipple and a push down.

This time Jensen lost breath. He had to focus to inhale it back in, heart pounding in his ears: this was it. Misha pulled off Jensen’s jeans and boxers, then stood up off the bed and pulled off his own. Jensen took Misha in hungrily. This was it, them skin to skin, both naked, both sweaty, both together erect and needy without having to hold one thing back.

“Breathe,” Misha said, looking at him with a laugh.

Jensen took in a sharp breath. “I’m impatient, hurry up,” he muttered, blushing, knowing damn well Misha knew he was nervous.

“Yeah,” Misha said, sitting down with the lubrication he finally found in his bag. They’d both already gotten themselves tested for the other weeks ago. Misha’s hand went straight to Jensen’s chest, right above his pounding heart. “Yeah, I’m about that impatient too,” he whispered.

Jensen rolled his eyes, lifted up, hooked his hand around Misha’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He shivered at the first press of their lips. It always felt new, too good to be true and unreal in so many ways to Jensen. It still unsettled his stomach that maybe he didn’t deserve this after running it from it for so long, but he opened his mouth to Misha’s tongue because he wanted it. He figured it meant he was selfish but he couldn’t give this up now that he’d taken hold of it, he needed it as much as he needed food and water.

Misha moved over him, straddling him as they kissed, then pulling away, slowly, lingering a bit, just there lips barely brushing and leaving one last chaste kiss on them before he moved down Jensen’s body and pressed kisses to both of Jensen’s hipbones. “You are so fucking beautiful,” Misha muttered, more to himself than to Jensen.

“Yeah, I know,” Jensen said, putting in a lot of effort to sound cocky, because he didn’t really feel it, he felt nervous, worried, and red from being so vulnerable, so open. He’d been naked before with Misha, but not often. They’d been so careful not to undress completely with each other so they wouldn’t cross the line Jensen had drawn in the sand out of loyalty to Danneel. It’d been so long since that one night in the apartment in Vancouver.

Jensen was drinking Misha in. He was so damn lean -- all that yoga, Jensen thought -- and his damn hipbones were works of art that artists would kill to see. Jensen felt he would kill them if they ever did. He felt possessive and he wanted to lift and touch him. But Misha had a hand on his stomach, thumb rubbing a half moon around his belly button, keeping him down, tongue teasing the base of his penis, as he chuckled into Jensen’s skin there at the cocky retort.

Jensen’s eyes rolled back and he groaned. “You’re going to kill me with that tongue, aren’t you?”

“Always been told I had a sharp tongue,” Misha said, lifting his head up and meeting Jensen’s eyes. “Throw me a pillow,” he ordered, eyes dark, voice commanding.

Jensen grabbed one and did. Misha then manipulated him, until his hips were raised up some by the pillow and his knees were pushed out and up, Misha’s mouth hot, wet and teasing on his cock, and his fingers warm and lubricated filling him from behind. It happened all at once, from the toss of the pillow, to the sure, strong movements of Misha’s hands and mouth, and Jensen was groaning, trying not to shove his cock up too far into Misha’s throat, and flat out moaning in ways he knew would embarrass him if he could really hear it over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. “Fuck,” he called out.

Misha was a bastard. He’d planned this, he’d had it all planned out, the way he was teasing Jensen with his mouth and moving his tongue in some strange counter motion to the finger, then pushing fingers into Jensen’s asshole, stretching him, getting him used to the intrusion. Feeling out a part of Jensen that no one had touched but himself and a damn doctor.

It had never felt this way when he’d had his own fingers inside of himself, he’d never felt right about it, never felt he could ever possibly finesse it or guess what it was like to have another man’s fingers inside. He was right.

“Fuck, Misha,” he growled out.

Misha stopped licking his cock like it was a lollipop. “Yeah?” he asked with feigned nonchalance, given away by the Castiel-like huskiness in his voice and the hooded look of his eyes.

“Fuck me,” Jensen demanded.

Misha nodded.

 

Jensen found himself empty, and he’d never felt so empty in his life, but he gritted his teeth, kept his eyes open and watched Misha lubricate his own cock, saw how it was long, red, thick and wet, and as ready for Jensen as Jensen was for it. Jensen sighed as Misha bent down over him, moved his legs around Misha’s hips and then Misha pushed inside of him, slow but not too slow and there was discomfort, but Misha was kissing him and it was gone.

Then Misha was fully inside of Jensen, looming over him, one hand on the side holding his weight so it didn’t fully fall on Jensen, but their chests were pressed together, they were breathing the other’s breath, they had their gazes locked and were just staring straight on into the other’s eyes. Jensen nodded, almost imperceptibly but he knew Misha would see it, and know what it would mean.

Misha did.

Misha pulled back and started to thrust. And with every thrust, it got harder and rougher, but they never stopped staring straight into the other’s eyes. Jensen felt completely secured to the bed by Misha and felt completely loved and completely whole for the first time in his life.

~~

 _Misha_

Misha closed his phone, shoved it into his back jeans pocket and turned around to look into the hotel room. He was out on the balcony, overlooking the bright lights of Vegas. Jensen was sitting at the table in the room, writing out a statement to send to the entertainment reporter he’d chosen to give ‘his exclusive’ to.

Misha had just gotten off the last of his series of phone calls about the story himself. It had been with both Sera Gamble and Bob Singer -- he’d spoken with Kripke an hour earlier, then his manager. It was all low key, no one making too much out of it. Misha had however made it clear to Bob that he thought the story had leaked from a PA on the Vancouver set. He was almost 90% sure -- all the pictures leaked were from onset so there was no way a friend of Danneel could have taken them, or gotten hold of them. The source was only saying they were from her camp, for whatever reason crazy-stupid people did the crazy-stupid things they did.

Bob had said he’d look into it, talk to Phil Sgriccia who was usually on set in Vancouver, and see if they could figure out who the culprit was at least. The facts were that unless the fool did something once filming started up again, they most likely wouldn’t be able to track them down.

It didn’t sit well with Misha, but he was doing his best to try to accept it. He walked back into the room, pulled a chair up as close as he could to Jensen, sat down and stared.

Jensen typed a few more words, surprising Misha with his touch typing skills. He hadn’t thought about it before but if he had Misha would’ve guessed two finger method. After a few seconds of Misha’s staring, though, Jensen stopped short and looked over Misha, exasperation on his face. “This is hard enough without you staring at me.”

“What’s hard about it? ‘You say, I am in hot gay love with Misha. Nuff said.’” Misha winked and kissed him on the lips.

Jensen laughed. “Yeah, that works,” he said, looking back at the screen. “I... I just... I want to mention that Danneel is innocent but...feel damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

“Just be honest,” Misha said. “Danneel is awesome. I’m in super hot gay love with Misha...”

“Shut up,” Jensen muttered, pushing Misha away with a hand on his chest. Misha grabbed it with both of his and held it there.

“Uh oh, can’t type now,” he said.

 

Jensen looked at him and just stared, his tongue poking out to lick his lips. “Don’t tempt me, I have get this done before midnight, I promised Flavia.”

“Flavia? Oh, right, Flavia is the best choice, good choice,” Misha said, realizing who Jensen had picked to send his statement to.

“Go away, so I can focus, will you,” Jensen begged.

Misha stood up, his but kept Jensen’s hand in his and brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Misha grabbed the hotel keycard that was on the table, his wallet from the floor where it had fallen earlier and walked toward the door. With his hand on the knob, though, he had to look back. Jensen was bent back over the keyboard, broad shoulders on display under a thin gray t-shirt, spine showing through the cotton too. In the reflection of the sliding glass door to the balcony Misha saw that his tongue had poked out in concentration. Misha felt his body temperature rise from attraction but the real warmth that flowed through him was in knowing that he and Jensen were solid. He’d wanted something that he thought he could never get. It was like trying to catch a cloud and somehow he’d caught a cloud. He had Jensen Ackles, freckles and soul.

He grinned. Now he just had to figure out what he was going to say on twitter, to coincide with Jensen’s statement going live online. Something classy, something succinct and pithy. Maybe something about being a sparkling unicorn to Jensen’s shiny rainbow? No...too cliche, he had to really think, he realized as he hit the elevator down button.

~~

To My Fans,

First and foremost I love Danneel Harris, she is my best friend and I never meant to hurt her. This probably sounds trite, it feels trite to me every time I think it. It will be a regret I will have to learn to accept for the rest of my life. I am sharing this private matter with you all, so that you will understand how important it is to me when I say the following:

When the news about my relationship with Misha Collins leaked and was alleged to come from Danneel Harris, I did not for one moment believe that she leaked the information. She is innocent. I beg of you all to believe me. Give her peace.

Now I will share one more private matter with you all. I am bisexual. I fell in love with my costar Misha Collins. I was stupid for a long time about both these things, the reasons for which I will share only with close friends and family -- I’m sure you will all understand -- but somehow despite my stupidity and blockheadedness I am dating the man I love.

This is all. Jensen Ackles.

 

The End


End file.
